Cloak of Courage
by Wendynat
Summary: COMPLETE in 27 chs! Hermione suffers a terrible loss and has to choose between two paths. The Call of the Blood. HGSS. Loosely based on WIKTT Marriage Law Challenge. Warnings: Character Death, Descriptions of Abuse, Adult situations. Epilogue up 0622
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I own none of the Harry Potter characters – they and their world belong to JK Rowlings. This is purely for my own enjoyment, and hopefully for the enjoyment of others.

This fic is loosely based on the Marriage Law challenge on WIKTT (see my author's page for a link to WIKTT). I don't know that I will hit all of the challenge requirements, but I will do what I can with this rabid plot bunny that's been nipping at my ankles. It will be a bit darker than my previous multi-chaptered fictions – includes character death and descriptions of abuse. Additional warnings may be required in subsequent chapters. 

Cloak of Courage 

WendyNat

Chapter 1

~~~~~~

Jagged bolts of lightning flashed across the sky in the distance. A storm was coming. 

Black robes fluttered as a figure ran. Another figure, smaller, sensed the hunter and sped its pace slightly. As the pursuer came closer, the smaller figure suddenly stopped, head held high, and turned to face the other.

"You can't stop me. My decision is made," the smaller figure said in a calm, steady voice. Young. Feminine. In pain.

The black-robed man stopped, and said one word. "Come." Seeing her hesitation, he sneered. "You think you can escape me? Don't worry," he said, looking away for a moment into the dark trees. "If this is the path you feel you must take… I will not keep you from it. But first, you will hear me."

The small figure threw back her hood and stared at the man in front of her, her unruly curls blowing in the rising wind. "Why… why would you care?"

He also threw back his hood and looked at her through black eyes, his own limp, greasy hair blowing only faintly in the wind. "Come, child."

"I'm not a child," she said, tears forming in her eyes. "That's the problem."

He nodded slowly, acceding the point. "How perceptive of you. Come." He held out his hand. "Please." The novelty of his plea worked as intended – surprised into obedience, she took a step closer to him and held out her hand tentatively. 

"You will not stop me, when you've said what you wish to say?" 

"That is correct. Now – follow me," he said, grasping her cold hand and leading her from the gates of Hogwarts. 

"Where?"

"You will have your chance for questions, but not now. Kindly refrain from speaking until we reach our destination," he said, turning his black eyes to stare at her as they made their way across the grounds._ He was relieved when she simply nodded silently. Pleased with her restraint, he offered, "We are simply going to where we can speak undisturbed. Where listening ears cannot pry."_

After a few minutes of walking, they reached the wall of the castle. She looked at it, frowning, and he allowed a small smile to touch his lips as he waved his hand in front of the unbroken stone, murmuring an incantation under his breath. The wall melted into an archway, and they stepped through it. Minutes later, they sat in his office, staring silently at each other. He waited for her to break the silence first.

"Well, Professor," she said, voice still steady. "What did you wish to tell me?"

"A story, Miss Granger," he said, gazing at her over steepled fingers. "Simply… a story. But first… I have some questions of my own."

"Go on."

"You truly think you can exact your revenge. Against fully-trained Death Eaters?" He continued to look at her over his steepled fingers, and she returned his gaze levelly. "That was a question, Miss Granger."

"No. Not right now… no, I don't," she answered.

"Then, may I ask, where were you heading?"

She didn't answer, but was unable to continue holding his gaze. He lowered his hands to the desk and leaned forward. "Miss Granger. Hermione. I will ask one more time before administering Veritaserum." She looked at him in shock and opened her mouth. "I am well aware of what you are about to say. Save your breath. The Headmaster knows, and has given me complete freedom to do what I must." She stared at him, eyes widening, and he smirked. "Yes. It's a bit… disconcerting, no?"

"Why-"

"Why do you _think_, Miss Granger?" he said condescendingly, keeping his eyes on hers until she fidgeted. "Now, I believe you were about to tell me your destination this evening." He watched with approval as she got herself under control and met his gaze boldly.

"To learn."

"Ah," he said, and then sighed. "And where did you plan to find this… knowledge… that you seek?" Again, she fidgeted in the silence. He slammed a hand down on his desk, startling her. "I am awaiting an answer, Miss Granger!" Her mouth opened silently and then closed again and he sat back, drawing in a deep breath. "I am quite comfortable here, Miss Granger. I assure you I will not be pleased if you force me to leave my chair and retrieve the vial of serum." He smirked slightly. "It may prompt me to ask more… personal… questions than you'd like." _Ah, that mark hit home, _he thought with satisfaction as a panicked, feral look came into her eyes. 

"I- all right. A… friend… offered to teach me some… things… that I could use-"

"A friend," he echoed dispassionately. She nodded. Picking up a quill from his desk, he idly twirled it in his long fingers. In a conversational tone, he said, "You are aware, Miss Granger, that Viktor Krum is a Death Eater?" She didn't answer, her eyes fixed on the quill dancing between his fingers. He stopped the movement, and her eyes flicked up to his. "Again, I am awaiting an answer."

"Yes," she said, averting her eyes from his gaze.

"And you are aware that he, without a doubt, is only hoping to use you as a weapon to remove members of Voldemort's circle who stand above him? Thus bringing his own position higher?" He paused for a moment to allow his statements to sink in. "Miss Granger!" he bellowed, again making the young woman seated before him jump.

"Y-yes," she stammered, and then continued in a steadier voice as she straightened her back, "I was aware of that... or I suspected it, at least. But as he intends to use me, so I can use him." Her eyes glinted coldly, and he felt a chill run through him at the sight. So young, so much pain, so… so like him, at that age. She had seen too much already. He barely heard her next words, muttered under her breath, "The only way to fight fire is with fire."

"That is perhaps the most asinine thing you've said here this evening, Miss Granger," he stated scathingly. She looked up at him in surprise. "Yes, even more asinine than seeking out a Death Eater to teach you the knowledge you feel you need to avenge your loved ones' deaths."

"It's… it's the best way. To fight the Dark Arts, I need to learn the Dark Arts," Hermione said, her voice not quite as solid as it once was.

"It will not do what you intend it to do. There is a reason these things are forbidden. A reason why they are not taught at Hogwarts," he said harshly. "I learned that…" He gave her a humorless smile before continuing, "…as they say, the _difficult _way, Miss Granger." He gazed at the desk, lost in thought.

"Um… Professor?" her small voice dragged him from his reverie, and he blinked. When the silence became deafening, she spoke – as he knew she would. "What… what happened? Why-" she stopped, swallowing hard, and then visibly gathered her courage around her like a cloak and asked, "Why did you turn to the Death Eaters? Why did you become one of them?"

He stared at her in silence before standing and turning his back to her. "For much the same reason you are about to, Miss Granger."

"But… I'm not-"

"Aren't you?" he said savagely, turning back around to face her. Her eyes went wide, and she trembled in the face of his fury. He breathed deeply for a moment, calming himself. "Miss Granger. There is no such thing as _dabbling in the Dark Arts. They are… more seductive than you realize. You - yes, Miss Granger, even you," he said with a small smile, "will be… pulled in." He returned to his seat and gazed down at his hands. Almost to himself, he said, "Each step seems but a small one, until you have descended so far that that you can no longer see the light for the depth of the pit you are in. And then… only then… do you realize what you have done. _

"And what it will cost you to try to climb back out." He closed his eyes. "Not many are willing to risk… not many are able to climb back out, Miss Granger."

She was silent, staring at him as she attempted to stop the trembling in her hands by folding them in her lap. "Is that why Viktor… why he became a Death Eater?" she asked, her voice hoarse. "He was always curious about the Dark Arts… maybe he became too involved…"

He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Perhaps. I cannot speak for Mr. Krum. There was most likely a large amount of family pressure as well."

"His father." It was statement, not question. Realizing this, he simply nodded in response. "Oh, Gods," she said, closing her eyes. He waited as she formed her next question. "Did… did you have family pressure, Professor?"

He let out a bark of humorless laughter. "Yes… not in the way you think, though. My reasons… were very similar to your own, Miss Granger. I wanted… needed... revenge. Revenge against someone whose knowledge of the Dark Arts far outreached my own. At the time."

"And so you sought out knowledge. To learn, so you could get your revenge," she said.

He nodded. "Correct." He flicked his gaze to his fingers as he ran the feathers of the quill across them. "You are not the only one to lose someone close to you, Miss Granger." Raising his eyes, he watched her reaction closely.

Tears sprang into her eyes, and she looked away. "I- my parents… and then.. then Ron, too… all because of this stupid law…" He watched as, with a great effort, she once again pulled her cloak of courage around her, the tears receding. He gave a small nod in silent approval. Her voice only wavered slightly as she asked, "You… you said it was family pressure, but not in the way I think. Sir… what was it?" Her voice continued in a whisper, "What drove you to the Dark Arts? To… to Voldemort?"

"What drove me to seek knowledge from a person I held as a friend?" he asked pointedly. She looked away, and he sighed. "I will tell you, Miss Granger. But I will have your oath – your wand-oath-" he nodded as she looked up in surprise, and continued, "that what I am about to say… you will not discuss it with anyone other than myself or Professor Dumbledore, in any fashion." She nodded and he gestured impatiently for her to withdraw her wand. Hand trembling faintly, she spoke the incantation and oath. They both watched as her wand glowed blue for a moment before fading. 

"My home life was not… ideal. As I'm sure you heard from Potter." At this, he paused and gave her a pointed look, recalling the memories that had streamed from his mind during one particular Occlumency lesson with Potter two years ago. She kept her eyes on his, the innocent mask slipping only slightly. He nodded grimly. "As I thought. My father was… an evil man. My mother was weak. He preyed on that, and I… I was caught in the crossfire." He paused again, and she waited patiently. "My mother was… a good person. I said she was weak, but the truth is, she had no other option but to stay with him. She had no money of her own – my father married her for her name, which was respected among pureblooded wizards. The small amount of money she did bring into the marriage he drank away. As he did his own," he said bitterly, throwing down the quill. "We did not mind. When he was drinking… he was pleasant to be around. A true father, a good husband." He smiled slightly at her surprised look. "Indeed. My father was rather the exception to the rule. He was what is referred to as a _good drunk_. When he went without it… that is when the rages occurred." 

He fixed her with a stare, and she didn't blink as he held her gaze. "I spent years, watching my mother go through the most appalling trials imaginable. Beatings, cursings, rapes… yes, Miss Granger… watching. My father thought it… educational. He would put me in a body bind and force me to watch as my mother was ravaged by the monster that was her husband. The monster that was my father.

"He taught me the beginning curses of the Dark Arts, encouraging me to… practice… on animals, insects, whatever I could find. I discovered early on that I did not quite have the taste for it, but as I gained in years I recognized it as a useful tool. A powerful tool. I studied as much as I could on my own, and my father encouraged it. He didn't realize I was studying it so that I could one day stand up to him, so that I could protect my mother and seek revenge on her behalf. Then…" He paused, and the young woman sitting in front of him did not move, her expression one of horror. "When I was home for the summer after my sixth year at Hogwarts, he performed one of his _educational sessions in front of me. I objected, like a fool. I thought I was powerful enough, that I had finally learned enough. He taught me otherwise. The resulting… reprimand… caused me to black out for some time. When I awakened, the Dark Arts volumes were under lock and key, warded with spells from the very books they protected. I was young, foolish, overconfident… I had played my hand too early. _

"When I returned to Hogwarts the following year, I sought out those who could help me. My friends, as I thought them… most of them had already graduated but remained in contact. I intended to use them for their knowledge… without realizing that, bit by bit, they were pulling me in. They told me of a group that would grant me my every desire, that would teach me those things that were forbidden, that would make me powerful enough to stand against the man I hated most in the world.

"Oh, they were a group of crackpots, I had no doubt. A cult, blindly following a singleminded fool. I realized that it would be folly to join them, to take the strong oaths that their leader required… but they had the knowledge I sought. I was… tempted, even then, to take what they offered. 

"I didn't, however. I resisted my… friends'… advice. I continued to teach myself, reading whatever Dark texts I could get my hands on… biding my time. And then-" he bowed his head for a moment before continuing in a hollow voice "-I received word that my mother had died."

Complete silence reigned in the room for long moments. Finally, a tentative voice said, "Sir?"

He continued on as if there had been no pause. "I had my suspicions… it was listed as an accidental fall, but I didn't believe for a moment… I attended the funeral. It was winter, snowing… and when I was there I decided to practice some of what I had learned. After liberally dosing my father with alcohol so he was relaxed, I… probed his mind. For those who possess the gift, Legilimency does not require the use of a wand. Flashes of… hideous things came through the link. In the barrage of memories from his twisted consciousness, I saw my mother killed. By his hand.

"More cautious after my… education… the previous summer, I made a vow. I would learn everything I could, and avenge my mother's death. I would join the group, use them, wring all knowledge of the Dark Arts from them… and then return to my ancestral home and enact my revenge. My mother's murderer would pay. 

"My father would pay." 

He caught her eyes again, noting with satisfaction that her brown eyes were wavering, though he still saw the resolve in them. With an inward sigh, he continued. 

"I returned to Hogwarts, giving no hint of my plans. I was warned… by Dumbledore himself… he suspected my intentions, I believe. He is dangerously perceptive. I put on a polite face, uttered the appropriate words, and completely ignored the warnings. I was certain I would not fall into the darkness that so many others did when practicing the Dark Arts, I was certain that I could use these fanatics for their knowledge and then extricate myself without much trouble. I was intelligent, more intelligent than almost any who had walked these halls in decades before me. I wasn't doing it for personal gain, I was doing it for love – I loved my mother, dearly, and her death had to be avenged." He gave her a wry smile, then. "I was a _good person, and good people do not fall under the lure of the Dark Arts. Do they, Miss Granger?"_

She didn't answer, just shook her head mutely. 

"No? You are as much a fool as I was," he said reflectively. "Your parents are dead. Your… lover… is dead. You are so young, to have been through so much… as I was."

She looked down then, hiding her face. In a muffled voice, she said, "My friend. Not my lover." He raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. As the silence grew too thick for her to bear, she raised her head and said, "One time does not a lover make, Professor. He was my friend, he was trying to…" a sob tore from her before she could continue "… to protect me. It… it happened the night before we sent in the marriage contract. And then…"

"The next night, he was dead," he finished gently. She looked up, perhaps surprised that he could speak gently to anyone, let alone her. He nodded slowly. "I am sorry, child… no, young woman, for what you have been through. But-" he leaned forward urgently "-this path you wish to follow… it will not bring you what you seek."

"How… how did it feel, Professor?" she met his eyes boldly and he sat back, cautious. "How did it feel to get your revenge?" Her eyes were once again full of resolve. 

"For one glorious moment, like I had gained the world," he said hoarsely. Her eyes shone and she stood. "And then… hollowness. The Dark Arts… the spells, the cursings… they take more than you can understand. And they give nothing in return."

"Nothing? You got your revenge. You felt as if... as if you had gained the world," she said, confused. "I… I want that feeling. I need something… to fill this… this nothingness…" Her eyes swam with tears and she turned to leave the office. 

Standing swiftly, he moved behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. In a whisper, he said, "It didn't do what I really wanted, Miss Granger."

She looked back at him, tears spilling from her brown eyes. He looked into them openly, intensely. They stood, locked in each other's gaze, for long moments before he forced his dry throat to say, "I thought I wanted revenge. But that wasn't what I was really seeking. After my sacrifice, my fall into darkness… I realized, as I stood over his body, as the Unforgivable I had cast completed Voldemort's linking spell, causing the Dark Mark to burn brightly in my arm… I realized then.

"You can not bring back the dead."

Her wand fell from nerveless fingers as she collapsed, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. He caught her as she crumpled, sitting on the floor against the desk and pulling her into his lap. Her body began to shake with sobs and, as her tears stained the black robes covering his heart, he tightened his arms around her. Whispered quiet words to her. Comforted her. 

As only someone who had been faced with the same decision could. 

Pride mixed with relief prompted an uncharacteristic tenderness from him as he stroked her hair. It was a narrow miss… she had pulled back, forsaking the deceptively easy path. She had pulled her courage around her like a cloak, and taken the first step along the more arduous course.   

"What will happen to me now, Professor?" she asked shakily through her tears, the words muffled against his chest.

"It will be well, Miss Granger. Hermione. It will be well," he murmured silkily, comfortingly. Long moments passed and she quieted against him, leaning bonelessly into his strength. He leaned his head back against the wood of the desk with a sigh. More long moments passed, and she slipped into sleep. 

Cautiously, he stood with her in his arms, careful not to wake the exhausted young woman. Carrying her through his office to a hidden door, he whispered the password and the wall dissolved. He passed through it into his chambers, gently laying the young woman on his bed. He pulled the covers over her and, still sleeping, she snuggled into them as he watched silently. 

Closing his eyes, he turned and walked to the fireplace in the adjoining room. A pinch of floo powder. "The Headmaster's Office," he commanded, kneeling in front of the fire and putting his head into the green flames.

Albus was waiting for him. "Severus?" he asked, his casual tone at odds with the tension in his features.

"She is asleep," he answered. 

"Keep her under your eye, Severus," the Headmaster asked, his face still grave. Severus nodded. "And… have you decided-"

"Yes," Severus answered simply. "I will do it." 

-----------------------------------------------------

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and that you are interested enough to read the next chapter posting. I will be working on _Some Scars Never Fade_ at the same time as this fic, so the most I will promise is weekly updates. Some may occur more often than that, as the mood strikes me (or as the reviewers beg me ;) ). That said, please review and let me know what you think. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Not mine. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end. 

**Warning: **This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations. 

**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 2

~~~~~~~

_"We'll fight this marriage law, darling, don't you worry… they can't do this… if we have to, we'll get your Daddy's friend involved – you remember him… the one that works with the British government…"_

_"Honey, just hang in there… we're getting some other parents involved… at least they've agreed not to count those time turner hours into your age…that's one small victory…"_

_"Well, yes, dear, we have received some threats, but don't worry about us... they're just trying to intimidate us…"_

_You cannot bring back the dead._

_"And I told those Ministry idiots that, if nothing else, we'll take you and move to France, or… where was that other wizarding school at? It doesn't matter, everywhere needs dentists… Yes, I know, honey, you want to finish your schooling… we want you to, too… we support you…you've worked so hard, and done so well… we're so proud of you…"_

_"Miss Granger, I regret that I am the bearer of terrible news. Please, sit down… yes, I'm afraid it's about your parents… the Dark Mark… we believe it was a result of… I'm so very sorry, Miss Granger… so very sorry that this has happened…"_

_"I just heard, Hermione, I'm so sorry…"_

_"So sorry…"_

_You cannot bring back the dead._

_"Since you are an adult by our laws, there is nothing more I can do… the Ministry stands in as official guardian for you in the Muggle world until you reach your majority there…standard procedure… Lucius Malfoy has taken personal interest, I'm sure you can surmise…"_

_"You have thirty days from the date of that betrothal proposal… if you receive others in that time you will have a choice…"_

_"I'll do anything to help you, 'Mione, don't worry… we won't let Malfoy get his ferret paws on you… No, I didn't talk to my parents, I don't have to, I know they'll agree…"_

_You cannot bring back the dead._

_"Here, just sign this…It's not just because of the law, you know… I do want this… I…I think I'm in love with you… I know you don't feel the same right now, 'Mione, but maybe in time…"_

_You cannot bring back the dead._

_"Are you sure? You don't have to… Of course I want to! I've been dreaming of it for so long now… Are you sure… I don't want to hurt you…  I don't want you to think I expect you to… Oh, Merlin, 'Mione…It feels so… Oh, Gods… Hermione… I love you…"_

_You cannot bring back the dead._

_"No, I haven't seen him… he said he was going into Hogsmeade for something… When was he supposed to be back? It's late… of course I'll come with you, 'Mione… he's my friend, too…"_

_You cannot bring back the dead._

_"Oh my God… Hermione, don't look! No, don't look!"_

_You cannot bring back the dead._

_"He's… it's my fault, Harry…oh, no… they…why, why…They'll pay. He was my friend…my best friend… They'll pay. I will make them pay."_

_"Each step seems but a small one…"_

_"Your parents are dead. Your… lover… is dead."_

_Not my lover, my friend._

_My fault._

_I cannot bring back the dead._

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*_

Returning to the bedroom after speaking with Albus, Severus stood in the doorway, arms crossed, staring at the sleeping figure of the young woman. One unruly curl had drifted across her face, and he was entranced for long moments watching as it stirred with each breath. So young. So much promise. So close to following the wrong path… even now. 

So much trouble for him.

She would have to be watched closely. The War was coming to a head, and they couldn't afford to let any advantage slip through their fingers. 

And Hermione Granger, Head Girl and accomplished witch, was a definite advantage. Both sides sought to make use of her brilliant mind, her logic, her loyalty… 

…her friendship with Harry Potter. 

The young woman suddenly whimpered in her sleep, and for the first time he noticed the tension in her form. She flung her head to the side, hair sticking to the sweat that was now beading her brow. With a frown, he moved closer and placed a cautious hand on her shoulder, using the other to brush the hair from her face. To his great surprise, she quieted under his touch. Frowning slightly, he pulled back as if burned, watching her closely. 

She was still asleep.

He relaxed minutely then. He doubted she would welcome his touch under these circumstances, although his inner voice saw fit at that moment to remind him of how she had settled against him earlier, clutching him desperately as she wept in his office. She hadn't seemed to find his touch unwelcome then. 

But – that was an unusual circumstance. 

Although - it _had_ calmed her… and, he acknowledged silently, a young woman sleeping in her teacher's bed couldn't be seen as anything _but_ an unusual circumstance. 

Perhaps even more unusual than the scene in his office.

She began to whimper again, her legs moving slightly as if running, and he moved close to her once again, placing a hand comfortingly on her upper arm. She quieted once again. He stood unnaturally still for a moment, undecided, before sighing. The Headmaster's words rang in his head: _Keep her under your eye, Severus. _

He agreed with the Headmaster's unspoken assumption that she may try to leave again in the night. It would be simple for her to counteract any innocuous wards that he could erect, and the other types of wards… he would not want her to fall victim to their effects. He would simply have to watch over her, especially since she appeared to be reliving certain… disagreeable… events in her sleep. But how to keep an eye on her? He was quite sure the Headmaster wouldn't be keen on a Professor sharing a bed with a student…

…even a student to which, if all went according to plan, he would be betrothed to the next day.

As he mused over his options, the sleeping woman sighed and turned to her side, grabbing his hand in her sleep and pressing it under her cheek. Like a child with a favorite blanket. He grimaced, then. There was no way to extricate himself without waking the girl, and he had no desire to speak of things which were better left until the morning. Things which she would insist upon discussing if she were to awaken. 

Indeed, he much preferred the young woman like this. Quiet. Calm. 

Blissfully silent.

With an irritated breath, he kicked off his boots and pulled his wand from his pocket. Luckily, she did not have possession of his casting hand. Pointing the wand at himself, he exchanged his robes for a comfortable pair of loose-fitting trousers with a few murmured words. Then he moved back from the bed as far as he could without disrupting the sleeping woman and pointed his wand at the bedside chair. With great concentration, he muttered the incantation necessary to transfigure the chair into a cot long enough to fit his frame. Hoping fervently that his hand wouldn't fall asleep, he slid onto the cot and lay back, eyes fixed on the girl sleeping in the bed next to him as he made himself comfortable.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

The quiet murmur of voices woke her. She blinked a few times, disoriented as she looked up at green and black bedcurtains… a stark contrast to the burgundy and gold colored curtains on her own bed. The mattress also felt softer, more luxurious, and the bed itself was quite a bit larger than her bed in the Head Girl's rooms.    

Thinking back to the events of the previous night, she realized what had happened. _Oh, Gods… I fell asleep on Professor Snape and he must have put me here… is this his bed? I slept in a Professor's bed? _The thought would have roused more shock in the past, but now all she could summon was a dull surprise.  

She could remember almost waking, the dreams haunting her as always – just snippets of conversation, quick flashes of memories, never relenting, never allowing her rest. Then she had felt a warmth, a warmth which made the images and voices recede for a short time. The welcome relief had been a double-edged blade, however… when the warmth left her and the images returned, it had seemed worse for the comparison. 

Then the warmth returned, and it seemed as if she had clutched at something… something that made the world feel right again. Warm… relaxing… and for the first time since Ron's death, she had slept.

She had forgotten what it was like to simply… sleep.

Sitting up, she was surprised to see a cot pushed up against her side of the bed. By the rumpled appearance of the bedcovers, it had been slept in recently. She frowned. _Surely Professor Snape wouldn't have slept… but then, who else could it have been? _She was getting more confused by the moment. Shaking her head, she crawled to the other side of the wide bed and climbed out. It was then that she realized she still wore her robes from the evening before. Even her outer cloak was still fastened around her neck – now hopelessly wrinkled. With a grimace, she unfastened it and placed the black fabric on the bed. It blended into the bedcovers – only the different sheen of the cloth gave away its presence. 

Reaching a hand up to touch her hair, she grimaced again and scanned the room. There were two doors from the bedchamber. One of the doors was cracked open slightly, and she could hear the rise and fall of low voices through the opening. Assuming that door must lead to the study, she padded over to the other door and peered into the adjoining room, sighing with relief when she saw that it was indeed a bathroom. 

She worked quickly to clean up her appearance - as much as she could without a long bath and shampoo - charming the wrinkles from her clothes and transfiguring some small pieces of parchment from her pockets into a toothbrush and hairbrush. Tears sprang to her eyes as she lifted the toothbrush, as she recalled the way Ron had liked to tease her about what he called her "dental hygiene obsession." 

They will pay. I will make them pay.

Her hand shook.

You cannot bring back the dead.

The toothbrush dropped from her hand, falling noiselessly to the plush carpet surrounding the sink area. She stared at it a moment before bending to pick it up.  

Firmly pushing all thought from her mind, she mechanically completed her tasks and left the bathroom. Making her way across the dark room, she hesitated at the other door for a moment. She identified the low voices as belonging to Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore. Just as she was about to open the door fully and make her presence known, she heard something that made her freeze. 

"Did you tell her the plan, yet?" It was Dumbledore speaking. Pulling back from the door, she moved into a position that allowed her to view the occupants in the other room. All she could see of Dumbledore was the back of his head and part of one ear. Professor Snape, on the other hand, was completely visible as he stood in front of the other man, moving about restlessly as they spoke. 

For the first time, she was seeing him without his voluminous teacher's robes, and the sight unsettled her for some reason. He was barefoot, wearing loose black trousers and an equally loose white shirt. The tails of the shirt were untucked, and he hadn't bothered to button the cuffs. _Dumbledore must have shown up earlier than he expected_, she guessed. With an effort, she brought her attention back to the conversation.

"No, Albus. I… there were other things to discuss, and before I was able to get to that, she had-"

"I understand," Dumbledore said. "What do you think she will do? Do you think your discussion was successful?" His voice was strained, which startled her. She had never heard the Headmaster sound… worried… before.

"I would not presume to guess, Headmaster," Snape said, running a hand through his hair. It was still rumpled from sleep, making him appear strangely approachable. "I believe so… it will be difficult for her, but she is brave. Far braver than I was."

"Your situations are completely different, Severus. You were raised to study-"

He waved the Headmaster's statement away with an elegant hand. "We have been over this line of discussion before, Albus."

"I do not blame you, child, for what happened. In your situation-"

"Yes, yes," Snape said impatiently. Hermione couldn't see the Headmaster's face, but he seemed to be saddened by the response, shaking his silver head as his shoulders slumped forward slightly. Snape stared at him silently for a moment before saying, "What do you have planned, Albus? How do we approach this?"

"I was hoping that, after your discussion last night, you would have some idea. A better idea than I have, at least." Dumbledore paused, and Hermione frowned. _What were they talking about_? "I thought I could gauge her responses, but I have been proven wrong, dreadfully wrong… I never would have guessed…" Hermione's frown grew. _What did he expect? My parents are killed, then my fiancé of one day… my best friend… oh, Ron… am I just supposed to sit back and let Malfoy get away with it all?_

"Exactly. And that's why you have someone like me on staff," Snape said coldly. "To remind you of how those who aren't walking about with halos over their heads react to devastating events." Hermione thanked him silently. 

"Severus…"

Snape shook his head forcefully and interrupted, "Did you really think she would do nothing? She's determined, brave, never backs away from a challenge, frighteningly intelligent, she reminds me of…" he stopped suddenly. 

"You," Dumbledore said quietly. "She reminds me very much, especially these last few weeks, of you at her age." Severus said nothing, and his words from the previous night came back to her: _You are as much a fool as I was._ "I'll admit that Weasley's betrothal proposal was a surprise."

"It was a foolish plan."

"They didn't know… why would they think it would result in…" Professor Dumbledore's low voice said. Snape raised his hand, the loose shirt cuff riding up his arm at the movement. 

"Yes, I know, Albus… I was merely…"

"I understand, Severus. We should have come up with a plan… but everything happened so quickly. Her parents… I am an old fool," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "I never thought Lucius would act on his own… I was sure we'd have time, with our eyes and ears in Voldemort's camp… I was sure we'd have time to act if any real threat was mentioned." _So it was Lucius Malfoy… acting on his own? That must be why Professor Snape didn't know about it beforehand._

"It was a gamble on his part. Luckily for him, the Dark Lord was quite pleased with the outcome," Snape said, moving closer to the fireplace and pacing back and forth. The light from the flames glowed through his thin white shirt, silhouetting his upper body. Hermione was astonished at the lean, muscular form that was revealed. She had never really thought of any of her Professors like that before… had never thought of any Professor as a… man… before. Especially not _this_ Professor. Belatedly, she realized that Professor Snape had resumed talking. "…hope the same will occur with our plan, or my life is forfeit."

"I don't believe we have much to worry about, Severus. We've gone over and over this since the young Weasley boy's murder. I believe Voldemort will be impressed with your ingenuity."

"And Lucius will be brought down a peg or two, if all goes well," Snape said, finally settling in an armchair opposite the Headmaster. "The higher in the circle I can maneuver, the more valuable the information I can obtain for the Order." He laughed humorlessly. "We will either be successful or I will be dead. Either way, I win."

"Severus…"

"It is of no matter, Headmaster. She may well wish to be dead herself when she hears the plan," Snape said. 

"I'm sure that's not true." The Headmaster's voice sounded annoyed, and she was surprised to see a faint smile on Snape's face. He was obviously attempting to goad the other man. "Merlin's beard, man, you could try the patience of… if you could be serious for a moment, please. It's the only option we have, Severus. I know it's not the ideal solution, but…" 

Professor Snape leaned his head back against the chair. "I am all too aware of that, Albus."

The Headmaster sighed and sat forward. "What do you think, Severus? Do you think she will go along with the plan?"

  
"I'm quite sure I'm not the expert on…" A pause, and then, "Why don't you ask her yourself, Headmaster?" Her stomach tensed as she heard Professor Snape's last words, spoken in the familiar silky voice he used when assigning detentions or taking House points from Gryffindor. She pulled back from the door, but not before she saw his black eyes turn and look directly at where she stood in the darkness. But surely he couldn't see… her heart stopped as his next words came, "She's standing right outside the door, listening to every word we say."__

___________________________________________________________________

_A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please review and let me know what you think. I know some things are still unexplained right now, but keep reading – it will all become clear eventually. Please review! (It made me update sooner, hint hint ;) )_

_Michelline – Thank you, I was going for a realistic approach… or as realistic as fanfic can be, at least ;). _

_Winter Solstice – Thank you for reviewing, I appreciate your comments. Blushing that you could read the first chapter all day and still think it's great. That's a very big compliment, especially coming from a writer whose story is on my favorites list!_

_The great and masterful Yoda – Updates to both in one weekend! Sorry for killing Ron, but he had to go... his death was the final blow to her, so to speak. And I couldn't kill Harry this time… he was killed in The Loyal Servant, so it was Ron's turn. _

_Lyress, Joga, Claribel, Em, Lizzie, Nataly, Sweetbabe, Anarane Anwamane, Darkmoon-on-dragonwings – Thank you so much for reviewing!! I really appreciate each and every review. _


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**  
WendyNat  
  
Chapter 3

~~~~~~~

Hermione was frozen, unable to move as the black eyes of her Professor pinned her in place. Her heart hammered in her chest as the eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Come, then, Miss Granger. Surely someone who was so brash as to leave their school in the dead of night to seek out a Death Eater isn't-"

Professor Dumbledore cut him off angrily. "Severus, that's enough." In a more gentle voice, he said, "Come in, child. What we are discussing concerns you, after all." Swallowing nervously, she opened the door fully and entered the study. Pausing for a moment she frowned and, straightening her back, strode more confidently towards the two men. She felt an unexpected swell of pride when Professor Snape nodded almost imperceptibly, approval evident in his eyes. _Why does it matter so much to me what he thinks? she asked herself silently, knowing the answer even as the question came. __Because he knows… he knows what I was going to do. He knew better than I did myself. And because…because he understands. _

Outwardly her face betrayed none of these realizations. With poise, she moved across the room and sat in the chair Professor Snape had indicated. "What's… what's going on, Headmaster, Professor? What plan were you talking about?" Hermione said without preamble, earning another approving nod from Professor Snape. 

Dumbledore answered. "How are you feeling this morning, Miss Granger?"

Her eyes narrowed and she said, in a cold tone she would not have dared to use in front of the Headmaster in the past, "Headmaster. Please let us get to the point. You know I was listening, for at least part of your conversation. What plan?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and glanced at Snape, whose lips were curved in a small smile. 

"You see, Headmaster?"

"Hmm. Yes," Dumbledore answered. "She definitely reminds me of you, Severus." Both Snape and Hermione's brows lowered at this, and Dumbledore chuckled lightly. "I beg your pardon, Miss Granger. You are correct, as usual. We will dispense with the niceties and… get to the point, as you say."

"How much did you hear, Miss Granger?" Severus asked, his keen eyes searching hers. She felt her poise crumble slightly under the intense scrutiny. 

"Um… not much. Well, not much that I understood. Maybe-" she began, then stopped and took a deep breath to steady herself. Her mind was working better than it had since she saw Ron's… since she had stopped sleeping well. 

_They will pay. I will make them pay._

Continuing after a short pause, she said, "Maybe it would be best if you started from the beginning. What I did overhear was confusing, to be blunt."

Professor Snape held her gaze for a few moments before nodding curtly. "Very well. Headmaster?"

Professor Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair and looked at Hermione. "Well, Miss Granger. You are aware, of course, of the marriage law that the Ministry has developed." She nodded, lips thin with suppressed impatience. How could she not? "You did say start at the beginning, child.

"You may have wondered why Lucius Malfoy was such a staunch supporter of the law when it was first proposed. He is not, after all, someone that would normally welcome a law that requires muggleborn witches and wizards to join, via marriage, to a person with two wizarding parents." She nodded silently. She _had wondered, actually. Throughout their years at Hogwarts, Draco had made no secret of his family's views concerning muggleborns… concerning __Mudbloods. _

Dumbledore continued, "The purpose behind the law is twofold. First, there is the official reasoning: to bring new blood into the wizarding community. Birthrates among pureblood families have dropped off in recent decades while the instances of birth defects and squib births have increased." Again, her lips pursed together impatiently, waiting for him to continue. Anyone who had ears to hear or eyes to read already knew what the Headmaster had just told her. 

"The second purpose, not publicly acknowledged, is protection. With the War brewing, the Ministry hopes to protect vulnerable muggleborns by bonding them to wizarding families." She snorted, and Snape sneered.

"Lucius Malfoy was the one who devised that argument. I still can't believe those fools at the Ministry fell for it. The Dark Lord was most pleased-" Snape said acidly.

Dumbledore continued as if there had been no interruption. "Lucius' protection argument was made stronger by the death of your parents, Miss Granger."

_They will pay. I will make them pay._

_So sorry…_

_You cannot bring back the dead._

"Miss Granger?" The smooth voice broke her out of her reverie, and she looked up, startled, to see Snape watching her searchingly. 

"Go on," she said to Dumbledore, her throat dry. 

He nodded solemnly, and continued, "You may not realize this, Miss Granger, but your parents posed a true threat to the future of the law. They had succeeded in having it postponed, had organized a group of like-minded parents to threaten exposure of the magical community if it were passed… the Ministry, I was surprised to see, was actually beginning to waver. I believe, had they lived… the law would likely have been thrown out." Hermione bowed her head. "Yes, child. And had I known… I am truly sorry, child. We were listening closely for any hint of retaliation from Voldemort… we didn't expect Lucius Malfoy to act on his own." 

_You're supposed to know everything, _her mind screamed. _You're the great_ _Albus Dumbledore, all-knowing,all- powerful…_She struggled to suppress the futile thoughts.

"So it was his idea… he… he wanted my parents dead. But… it still doesn't make sense. That family hates muggleborns, why would he want that law passed… why would he want…" She stopped suddenly before voicing her real question: _Why would he want me__? Why does he want me for Draco? _

This time, Snape spoke. "Think about it, Miss Granger. In one fell swoop, Lucius Malfoy accomplished two things: he rid the world of the law's most powerful opponents, and he bolstered the protection argument."

Dumbledore saw her bewildered look and clarified, "After the death of your parents, the resistance fell apart. The protection aspect of the law immediately became relevant to the remaining Muggle parents in the group. Most have decided now to embrace the law with open arms. Well… we really should have said he accomplished three things." Dumbledore stopped, exchanging a look with Snape. Snape nodded slowly. Hermione switched her gaze back and forth between the two wizards, curious. 

Snape spoke then, "He also won the favor of the Dark Lord." When he saw her confused expression his long, thin fingers gripped the arms of his chair tightly as he let out an irritated breath. She was sure that, if not for the presence of Dumbledore, he would have snapped at her. "Miss Granger, this law is playing directly into the Dark Lord's hand. He is ordering his Death Eaters to send betrothal proposals to certain… strategic… muggleborns. I'm certain I don't need to explain why." His dark eyes fixed hers, holding her gaze as his next words took her breath away. "And the most strategic muggleborn of all is currently sitting in my study."  

A heavy silence fell in the room, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Hermione sat, unmoving, digesting what they had told her thus far. _The most strategic muggleborn of all…"Because of Harry." It was a statement, not a question._

"Not entirely," Snape said in a low voice, turning his head to stare at the flames dancing in the fireplace. Dumbledore remained silent, staring at her with a strained expression.

Her hands shook slightly and she firmly willed them to be still. Taking a deep breath, she said, "What do you mean, not entirely? What other reason-"

"Your… connection… to Potter is the main reason, yes. But also… Miss Granger, you are strong. Intelligent. Although you display a strangely obsessive need to study, magic comes to you naturally. You, a muggleborn witch with no prior knowledge of our world, are the preeminent young mind in wizarding Britain. Perhaps in the wizarding world." Snape looked at her intently. "You threaten their very dogma, Miss Granger," he said softly.

In a puzzled voice, she said, "But you always called me… you never… you never said-"

Snape frowned at her, shaking his head. "Please, don't give contrary evidence to what I just said about your intelligence, Miss Granger. Do try to remember what role I play, outside these rooms." She clamped her mouth shut, embarrassed. Of course he couldn't compliment her in front of the Slytherins, or anywhere, for that matter. Despite what Harry liked to believe, the Dark Mark did not just burn in Slytherin forearms. 

Something occurred to her suddenly. "So… you don't really like Draco, then? It's all part of the act? And all that harping on Neville and Harry-" 

Snape smiled coldly. "You are correct concerning young Malfoy, Miss Granger. I despise the boy. However, you are far off the mark in other respects. As for Longbottom and Potter - I detest teaching idiots and self-righteous twits." He ignored Dumbledore's repressive look. "Longbottom is the bane of my existence. And Potter-" 

"That's enough, Severus." Dumbledore sat back with a sigh and looked at Hermione gravely. "Miss Granger, have you given any thought to what you will do now?" _Now that Ron is dead. Now that my foolish plan killed him._

She stared at the fire as she answered despondently, "My options are limited, aren't they?" Looking back at Dumbledore, she said, "I… I could leave the wizarding world-"

"And be dead, or in Malfoy's hands, within an hour," Snape's voice said curtly.

"Or I could leave the country, go to… go to Bulgaria…" Hermione caught Snape's glance and, swallowing hard, said, "But… that's not really an… an option anymore." Snape nodded, his death grip on the chair arm lessening slightly. "And then… there's always Malfoy's proposal." Snape sat up straight, staring at her, his fingers once again clutching the arm of his chair.

Dumbledore stared at her a moment before responding. "That is, of course, one option before you. Although this option… I fear it may have unpleasant consequences for you, Miss Granger. Perhaps more unpleasant than you realize," Dumbledore said, calmly adjusting his robes as he settled back in the seat. In contrast, Snape appeared increasingly agitated as the Headmaster spoke - his face set in a scowl, his fingers drumming furiously on the arms of his chair.

"What do you mean? It might be of use, I could spy-"

"That is not an option, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said gravely.

"Why not? Why shouldn't I take advantage of the situation and try to do something for the Order, why-"

At her words, Snape stood in a quick, fluid movement, spinning to face her. "Are you really so interested in becoming Lucius and Draco Malfoy's fuck toy?" he shouted. She gasped. "A slave to their-"

"Severus!" Dumbledore thundered, his eyebrows drawing together alarmingly as he jumped from his chair in a surprisingly agile maneuver to face the younger wizard. The silver-haired wizard's anger pulsated through the room, and Hermione sat frozen on the periphery. The man it was directed at, she saw with shock and not just a little respect, stood straight and solid, not cowering the slightest in the face of the most powerful wizard in the world. She thought, distantly, that the absence of his normal intimidating teaching robes should have lessened the effect of his presence, but it didn't in the slightest. His body was tense and taut, fury etched in every line… but he stood confidently, holding himself with a strange sort of grace…

"No, Albus! There is no point in what you do… no point in sugarcoating the situation. You are doing her a disservice by even attempting to do so! He may not kill her immediately, but there are far worse things that family is capable of! She deserves to know what she's facing. She is not a child to be coddled by your meddling – the decision she makes is likely to change the course of the War, and most definitely will change the course of her life. Or death." His voice, so loud at the beginning of his short speech, lowered until the last two words were spoken in a hissing whisper.

Hermione stared at them wide-eyed. Although Snape's outburst had shocked her, she had to admit, silently, that she was grateful for it. He, at least, was treating her as an adult, telling her the facts of the situation. The Headmaster's… coddling… was completely distasteful to her. 

Pulling her courage around her, she said in a steady voice, "Thank you, Professor Snape. I would much rather know, for sure, what my true options are. Headmaster, I appreciate what you are trying to do, but, as Professor Snape pointed out – I am no longer a child. That was… that was taken from me when three people I loved died because of me. To protect me." She almost choked on the last words and she paused for a moment, trying to regain her composure. The other two remained silent while she formed her next question. "What makes you… why… why do you think he wouldn't just kill me right away? Wouldn't that hurt… hurt Harry the most?"

"Oh, don't misunderstand me, Miss Granger. You would be killed. Eventually," Snape said, collapsing once again in his chair with a graceful motion. Dumbledore copied him, slowly reseating himself as he gave her a measuring look. 

Snape leaned his head back against the chair and stared at her, his eyes unwavering as he said in a cool voice, "Lucius gave quite a rousing speech to Voldemort's Inner Circle, Miss Granger. He plans to use you as a… training tool, if you will… for his son. They will break you, any way they can… and then, when you are no longer of any use or sport to them, Lucius has most selflessly offered to share you with the other Death Eaters." Hermione's face went pale. Snape nodded slowly. "Precisely, Miss Granger. He finished his speech, in most dramatic fashion, with a description of just how devastated the Boy Who Lived will be, when he finds your ravaged body draped across the front gates of Hogwarts."

Again, silence fell. 

"What… what… I can't ask anyone else to… Ron…" Hermione began, her voice catching in her throat as tears burned her eyes. 

_Oh my God… Hermione, don't look! No, don't look!_

Angrily, she blinked the tears back and forced her mind back to the problem at hand. "I… Harry would… but that would put me in just as much danger as leaving the country, wouldn't it? Maybe more… And with everyone Harry's lost already, I don't think he could stand…" 

Dumbledore nodded. "It was a consideration, but as you said… it would actually put you in more danger than you already are. They would stop at nothing to get their hands on Mrs. Harry Potter."

"That's why Ron and I… I won't risk the same thing happening to someone else," she finished in a whisper. "Enough people have died, already… "

"And, unfortunately, there is no doubt that what happened to Mr. Weasley would be repeated with any other suitor you bring forth," Snape said flatly. 

Hermione looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in her lap. With an effort, she relaxed them and placed them carefully on the arms of her chair. She raised her head to look at both men. "So. What is the plan, then?" Even to her own ears, her voice sounded curiously detached.

Professor Snape and Dumbledore looked at each other for a long moment before either answered. Finally, Snape waved his hand towards the Headmaster, his lip curling disdainfully. "Headmaster? If you would do the honors?"

Dumbledore's face tightened and he looked at Snape darkly before turning to face her. "Miss Granger… Voldemort wishes for you to marry a Death Eater. And… we just happen to have one right here," he said, nodding towards Professor Snape.

She sat, frozen, in disbelief. She had never considered… her _Professor_? They wanted her to marry her Professor? Not just any Professor, but Professor _Snape_? She almost giggled when she thought of Ron's reaction… but he was dead.

Did it even matter anymore what she did? Ron was dead, her parents were dead… _They will pay. I will make them pay. _Who else would have to die for her? At least Snape could protect himself, they wouldn't kill him, unless they found out he was a spy. And in that case, they would kill him anyway, whether she existed or not. Whether he was married to her or not. Vaguely she became aware that Dumbledore was still speaking.

"…may help us out in another way, also, besides your protection. We believe Voldemort will be pleased-" he ignored Snape's muttered "We hope he will, for my sake" and continued "-with the plan to use you against Harry. To spy on him, so to speak."

Hermione still didn't speak. With a small sigh, Dumbledore added, "If all goes according to plan, we will deal a blow to Lucius while, at the same time, raising Severus' position in the Inner Circle." She looked at Snape – _should I call him Severus? Oh, that would be strange…_

Snape nodded. "I am, at present, on the very fringe of the Inner Circle. It has taken all of my skill at subterfuge to work my way to my current position. Three years ago, when the Dark Lord recalled the Death Eaters… I had to… _prove myself_-" as he said this, the already pale skin of his face lightened further "-to him once again. This took some time, as I am sure you can surmise. My only advantage was my position in this castle. The Dark Lord, during his first rule, placed me here as an apprentice to spy on Dumbledore. He was not, and obviously is not, aware of my double agent status." 

Snape's fingers were once again drumming on the arm of his chair, one leg twitching up and down, and she wondered at this uncharacteristic lack of composure. A sudden thought occurred to her, _Could he be nervous? _Her eyes widened slightly as she stared at him. At Professor Snape. At her… future husband? She had seem him angered beyond belief, she had seen him cold and calculating, she had even seen him smile on rare occasions, but nervous? Over her decision? She suddenly felt a hysterical desire to laugh. 

Snape stood restlessly and paced as he continued. "Lucius has been able to work his way rather highly within the Circle… orchestrating Muggle tortures and planning attacks on muggleborn homes… not to mention his _inspired idea _to push this marriage law through. What an abomination," Snape said, sneering as he ran one hand through his black hair. She was struck once again at how this gesture, which seemed so uncharacteristic of the normally cool and formal Potions Master, made him seem more approachable, more… human. "I, obviously, cannot… or will not, I should say… further my position in the Circle by coordinating these types of attacks." 

Dumbledore's face tightened at this, and Hermione stared at him, an uncomfortable suspicion growing in her mind. She flicked her eyes back to Snape and saw that he was also staring at the Headmaster, a distasteful look on his face. She almost didn't hear the younger wizard's low words, "Although others may have urged me to such depths…" She sucked in her breath with a hiss, and Snape turned to face her. A moment of understanding passed between them… _Dumbledore will use whoever, and whatever, he can to be victorious. _Was he simply using her, as he had used so many others? Was this really to her advantage? She looked down, confused. Was there a better solution? Another option that hadn't occurred to her? She couldn't think… this was all too much…

"Miss Granger… Hermione," a silkily smooth voice said. She shifted her gaze up and was surprised to see Professor Snape crouching in front of her, their eyes level. His dark eyes, knowing, probing, bore into hers. "This _is _the best solution for you. The possibility that it may raise me higher in the Circle is an added benefit only. A perk, if you will." 

She sat silently, staring at him for a moment before turning away from his dark regard and finding her voice.

"I… this is very… it's not what I expected, when you spoke of a plan… but…" she paused, then closed her eyes and continued. "I… it does seem to be the most logical choice. Like I said earlier, I don't want to risk…" she swallowed hard "… to risk anyone else's life that I care about. E-enough people have died for me already." Her throat closed for a moment. _You cannot bring back the dead. Oh, Ron! _"And… in this case, it may actually help someone… I…" She paused for a moment, then brought her eyes up to meet Professor Snape's. 

"I will do it." 

The man in front of her relaxed minutely. In that instant, she had a moment of clarity that she had not experienced since before Ron's death. Her mind had felt numb for so long… until now. Taking a deep breath, she said, "But… I don't want to enter into a… commitment, a partnership… that is so unevenly set. I am still your student, Professor." She looked away uncomfortably from his shrewd gaze. "I – I have concerns about that. I would not want to be on such… unequal footing… with my husband. Whether it be a marriage on paper or a… a true marriage." Her throat went dry as she said the final words, and her mind raced. 

It would have to be a true marriage, to a point. The marriage law guaranteed that. Lucius – and the other members of the Ministry Marriage Council – had thought of everything to ensure that the "new blood" introduced would actually make it into the next generation. They knew people would try to circumvent the law by arranging paper marriages with like-minded friends… and so they made consummation of said marriage a requirement. From what her parents had been able to find out, there was a complex set of spells woven around the marrying couple by a Ministry official during the ceremony. In order for the contract to remain valid, in order for her to remain safe from other proposals, they would have to… she averted her eyes from his gaze, then. What was it her parents had been told? Monthly? Weekly? _I'm going to have to… to sleep with my Professor? With Professor Snape? Can I do that? _Unbidden, the image of his upper body, silhouetted by the flickering flames, came to her. She shook her head slightly and firmly pushed the image, with its possible connotations, to the back of her mind.  

The consummation requirement was one reason she had wanted to… to be with Ron before they sent in the contract. Just because she was being thrown into this against her will didn't mean she couldn't make the best of the situation, she had reasoned. If she were to be married, then she would enjoy the good as well as the bad. Was that still an option? What good could there be in a marriage to her Professor? To Professor Snape? Once again, the image of him standing in front of the fire came to her mind. _I must be going mad, _she thought_. Am I really going to marry Snape?_

Snape had straightened but continued to stare at her, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Appraisingly. "Miss Granger, I admit that that has disturbed me, also. I would not feel comfortable being… married, to a student. I, myself, brought this issue up with the Headmaster when the… plan was first discussed."

Professor Dumbledore nodded. "Precisely, my dear. You are also aware that we must avoid any hints of… impropriety in this situation. We cannot afford to give the Malfoy family anything that could be used to argue the legality of your union. Luckily, something the Ministry did has, for once, worked in our favor." Snape – _Severus? _– snorted with amusement as he wandered across the room to stand in front of the fireplace. 

Dumbledore smiled and continued, "I have been authorized - encouraged, even - to permit those students effected by this law to take their NEWTS early. The Ministry's purpose in this is to allow the students to leave Hogwarts as soon as possible to live with their new spouses… without denying them the opportunity to officially graduate."

"To go forth, be fruitful, and multiply," Severus said dryly, turning away from the fire to face them. Dumbledore shot him a quelling glance and he subsided with a smirk, turning back to look into the flames.

"Yes. But, I believe we can use this to our advantage. You are, I'm quite sure, already prepared for the NEWTS," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling for the first time in the conversation. "Even without further study. Am I correct in assuming you've already read all of this year's texts?" She blushed, too embarrassed to answer. Looking away from Dumbledore's eyes, she noticed that Professor Snape had turned to watch her, an amused sneer his face. 

Finally, she nodded and said, "I… I would still like some time to study, of course-" she ignored Snape's snort "-but I could take them early. When… how much time…"

"Could you be prepared by this coming Friday, Miss Granger? That would give you almost a week. There are a few other students who are taking them on that day, and therefore the Ministry testers are already scheduled to be here," Dumbledore said.

"That would be fine, I think. But what will I do then, Headmaster? I've wanted to pursue my education past Hogwarts, perhaps apply for an apprenticeship with a Master…" She trailed off. This was all happening so fast… 

"And you shall do so, Miss Granger," Snape said smoothly. 

"There are a number of Masters here at Hogwarts, Miss Granger. You would have your pick of them, I am sure. With the possible exception of Divination," the Headmaster said, smiling. She and Severus snorted at the same time and then looked at each other in surprise. 

The dark-haired man's lips twitched in a smile. "I quite share your high opinion of Divination, Miss Granger," he said sarcastically. "As far as your apprenticeship is concerned - besides myself, there are four other Masters at Hogwarts: Professors Flitwick, McGonagall, Sinistra, and Vector. You could apprentice with any of the above."

She sat in thought. She had assumed she would have the school year to decide what field she would go into… and then, with the deaths of her parents and Ron… it had all seemed so unimportant. Now, she clung to the decision like a drowning man to a raft… her mind was desperate… if she concentrated enough on what field to apprentice in, then she wouldn't have to think about… 

_You cannot bring back the dead._

_Voldemort wishes for you to marry a Death Eater._

"You do not have to decide at this moment, Miss Granger. But I would suggest you think it over this week as you prepare for your NEWTS. I will let the staff know that you are excused from classes," Dumbledore said gently. 

She nodded. "Um… Professor?" she said tentatively, looking at Snape.

"Perhaps you should call me Severus, Miss Gr- Hermione," he said heavily. 

"S-Severus, then. When… when will you…" Again, her voice failed her for a moment. Steeling herself, she sat up straight and looked him in the eye. "When will… when should we send in the proposal? The marriage proposal," she clarified unnecessarily. _Is this real? Am I really going to do this? But what other option is there? _

Sighing, he turned and reached to grab something off of the mantle. She stared as, once again, the flames shone through his thin shirt. He was lean and muscular, not bulky, his torso well formed… her mouth went dry. _I am really going to do this. Oh, God, _she thought as he crossed the room to hand her a rolled parchment_._

"There is no advantage in waiting, Miss G- Hermione," he said sharply. Dumbledore gave him a pointed look, and in a more moderate tone, Snape added, "We can send in the proposal now, and then finalize the contract as soon as your NEWTS are completed." 

Dumbledore watched her solemnly as she read over the proposal contract. Finally, she looked up at Snape – _no, Severus_, her mind corrected.

"Can I have a quill, Severus?"

_________________________________________________________________

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. PLEASE read and review, let me know what you think!! 

Sweetbabe-101 – Thanks, I'm glad you thought her reactions were realistic… hopefully I still handled things plausibly in this chapter! I'm trying to keep it all believable, not always easy in fanfic ;)

Electryone – There will be more little pieces of information about Ron in future chapters – he is a good guy in this story (well, was, anyway). I hope you liked her reaction to the plan. Thanks!

Lizzie – Thanks! I thought the snatches of phrases from Hermione's dream would have more impact than a dry recital of what had occurred. I left no preface as to "Hermione dreaming" because I wanted to convey the idea that she didn't know she was dreaming, either – is it dream, memory, waking? You're not always sure, while you're sleeping. I hope it wasn't too confusing…

Winter Solstice1 – Thanks – you're right, the spinny head effect was the intention in that first section. I hope you liked this update!

Boredinclass – Thanks! I'm going to try to keep him in character as much as possible…must resist urge to make him too nice… must resist urge to make him too nice… lol!

Subtilior – Thanks  - poor Ron… I have equal numbers of people who are sad and glad that he's dead in my reviews! 

Dru – I'm blushing! Favorite, really? Wow! Smooches to you! I'm still updating both weekly… I may actually have another update to Scars by Wednesday of this week, so I'm not going to let it slow me down.

Crookshanks Girl, Anarane Anwamane, bBy xX dinkLecup, the great and masterful Yoda, Culcarien, Mikus, Phen82 – Thank you all for reviewing! It definitely helps the muses work their magic ;). 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**  
WendyNat  
  
Chapter 4

~~~~~~~

_You have thirty days from the date of that betrothal proposal… if you receive others in that time you will have a choice…_

Her choice was made.

The only sound in the room was the scratching of quill against parchment as Hermione signed the betrothal proposal. When she finished signing, she sat back and stared at their signatures blankly. Her signature, round and even. His signature, sharp and spiky.

It was real.

She was betrothed to her Professor.

To Professor Snape.

She started slightly when the quill was gently removed from her fingers, and she looked up into Dumbledore's kind eyes. Snape had moved back to his chair and sat motionless, staring at the fire. The tension that had been coiled in him for much of the discussion seemed to have eased after she signed the proposal. Was he worried for her, or for himself? Or for the plan? Immediately, she shook her head. No, she believed him when he said it was the best choice for her. 

_The possibility that it may raise me higher in the Circle is an added benefit only. _

For some reason, that statement rang true to her. _Well, for Snape's – Severus' – part, at least, _she acknowledged with a glance at the Headmaster. For Dumbledore's part… she wasn't sure. She rather thought that his spy's position in the Circle was of equal importance to him as her own safety. Possibly more important, in his mind. And, she had to admit, in the grand scheme of things it was. Dumbledore was concerned, first and foremost, with the War. And that, of course, was the way it should be.

_How did I get to this place? I trust Snape, but not Dumbledore? Have I gone insane? _she thought in wonder, but as she watched the Headmaster take the parchment from her and quickly roll it, she knew it for the truth. She trusted Snape… at least, as far as her safety was concerned. As far as anything else… she wasn't sure yet. Perhaps, in time…

She watched as Snape rose from the chair languidly and strode over to the desk where he retrieved something. When he walked back to Dumbledore, she saw that it was his seal. She wondered, for a moment, what insignia he used. A family crest, perhaps? Something with the Slytherin symbol? Or something else, something of personal significance? With a jolt, it hit her just how little she knew about the man who was to be her husband. 

Ron, on the other hand… she had him known so well… _They will pay. I will make them pay. _Friends for seven years… summers at the Burrow, huddling together under Harry's Invisibility Cloak, spending holidays with him at Grimmauld Place, Arthur and Molly treating her as a second daughter… wherever Ron was had felt like… like _home_. She had clung to that, after her parents were killed. And see what had happened, as a result. _My fault. _

"Miss Granger?" Dumbledore's voice brought her back to the present and she flushed slightly when she looked up and saw both men staring at her. 

"I'm sorry, Headmaster… I was… I was just lost in thought," she stammered, feeling like a fool under the dark gaze of her Professor. _No, not my Professor any longer… my fiancé, _she thought. _I'm… I'm engaged to Severus Snape. Oh, Gods, what will Harry say? What would Ron say?_

"Completely understandable, my dear," Dumbledore said. Standing beside him, Snape was watching her sharply. "I was just saying that I will have Fawkes carry this to the Ministry this morning when I return to my office. And, Miss Granger… you will need to stay here, in Severus' chambers, for the time being." When she opened her mouth to speak, a puzzled frown on her face, Snape cut her off. 

"For your safety, Miss – Hermione. After all, you kept a Death Eater waiting last night. While he may assume you were detained for a short time, when you do not arrive this morning Mr. Krum may decide to come here, to Hogwarts, and… retrieve… you," he said in a low voice. She looked at him, considering whether or not to respond, and then flicked her eyes to Dumbledore and chose to remain silent. Snape stared at her suspiciously for a moment until the Headmaster spoke.

"Yes, Miss Granger. Severus has strong wards on these chambers – I daresay they may even be stronger than the ones protecting my office," Dumbledore said, lifting his eyebrows and glancing at Snape. Snape shrugged slightly, flicking his fingers in dismissal of the idea, and Dumbledore gave him a small smile. "Well, you will keep your secrets, Severus. At any rate, Miss Granger, you will be safer here than anywhere else in the castle."

"Mr. Krum is not the only danger, Hermione. Do not forget, when this parchment is received at the Ministry, Lucius Malfoy will undoubtedly receive word immediately. He will not be pleased," Snape said smoothly. As he spoke, he looked down at his hands, still holding the seal. _He will not be pleased. _She barely held back a snort. She rather thought that declaration was a bit of an understatement. 

"Do… do you think he would come here?" Hermione asked, staring up at the tall man... at her fiancé. His black hair had fallen forward, obscuring one side of his with its lank darkness. 

Snape and Dumbledore looked at each other without speaking for a moment, then Snape said, "Perhaps. It is unlikely that he will confront me directly – at least, not here - but if he were to happen upon you, or if his son-" at this, Snape couldn't hold back a sneer "-were to happen upon you… I would not put anything past that family. The Imperius curse is a formidable tool, and Lucius has always had a deft hand with it." He looked away then, staring at the fire once more, and if she hadn't noticed his free hand clenched into a fist she may have questioned him about it further. 

Dumbledore spoke then. "Yes, well. I'm sure you'll appreciate the time to study, Miss Granger. I will have the House Elves bring your things from the Head Girl's room. Now, as far as this weekend is concerned, I believe you told your housemates that you would be visiting a family friend?"

She nodded, averting her eyes from the Headmaster's disappointed stare. What was it that Sn – Severus had said?_ And that's why you have someone like me on staff…To remind you of how those who aren't walking about with halos over their heads react to devastating events. _He, at least, understood… 

_Your parents are dead. Your… lover… is dead._

_You cannot bring back the dead._

She looked up and saw that Snape – no, Severus – had turned around and was regarding her with an unreadable expression. Summoning the courage to speak, she answered the Headmaster without taking her eyes from her fiancé. "Yes, Headmaster. I told Harry and the others that I was visiting my father's friend for the weekend. They don't expect to see me until Monday morning."

Dumbledore nodded. "That will work nicely, then. I will have your rooms connected to Severus' on the floo network before then. During the week you will come and go using the Head Girl's rooms… that should avoid any allegations of impropriety before you are officially graduated this Friday. However, my trust for young Malfoy is very slim – which is why I expect you to remain here when you are not needed to appear for meals." Snape was scowling at the Headmaster, and it struck her that this situation wasn't exactly easy for the dark, secluded Potions Master, either. For some reason, that made her feel a little better, and she relaxed enough to watch the dark man as he paced in front of the fire. 

She admired, once again, the way the firelight passed through his thin shirt. This time, she let herself look. And approve. He was to be her husband, after all. And… these were to be her rooms. She looked around her critically. The room was still dark, although she assumed it was morning – there were no windows, only the light from the few candles and the fireplace making a dent in the blackness. To her surprise, it felt… cozy, rather than gloomy. There were more candles about the room, still unlit, that would provide ample illumination when she needed to study... 

"That's fine, Headmaster. I have a lot of studying to get done, anyway, so it will probably work to my advantage," she said, trying to hold back a smile at Snape's obvious irritation. 

The Headmaster smiled, then, and said, "Well, then. Now that everything's settled… neither of you have eaten, and I daresay Severus is in need of a shave." His blue eyes twinkled as he saw the dark expression on his Potions Master's face. "When you are ready, Severus, please come to my office for a short meeting. We have some things to discuss."

Hermione frowned at this. "Shouldn't I be involved in any discussions about this situation? It is regarding my life, after all, Headmaster."

Snape turned to her, his lip curling. "Not everything concerns you, Miss Granger. Is it so outside the realm of believability that the Headmaster and I may have something other than your illustrious person to discuss?" he said in clipped tones. She met his gaze evenly, although his words, said in that mocking tone, had sparked a tendril of angry embarrassment in her.

"It's Hermione."

He regarded her for a moment with an unreadable expression before nodding. "Hermione." Turning to face the Headmaster, he said, "Headmaster, about your orders from last night… if I leave…"

Dumbledore waved a hand in dismissal. "It will be fine, Severus. I believe the normal precautions that we discussed will be sufficient. I will not keep you long." By the look on his face, Severus didn't agree with the silver-haired wizard, but he nodded curtly with no further argument. _What normal precautions? What are they talking about?_ She held her tongue until the Headmaster left. 

"What-" She stopped when he held up a hand.  

"Miss- Hermione. I am well aware that you have the admirable ability to converse, at length, at any time and in any situation. I, however, am not, as they say, a _morning person_." She couldn't hold back a snigger at this, and he gave her a wry smile. "Yes. Please, hold more of your questions until after we've eaten. And after I've had a chance to complete my normal morning routine," he said, raising an eyebrow at her. She held back a grin and nodded. _Not a morning person… or an afternoon person… or an evening person…_she thought as he walked to the fireplace and with a pinch of floo powder contacted the kitchens.

A short time later, they were sitting at the small table in his chambers, eating silently. Small talk seemed unnecessary and, after the discussions of last night and this morning, she didn't think she was up to engaging in casual discourse on the weather. Stealing a glance at the dark-haired man sitting opposite, she rather thought that he wasn't someone who would appreciate small talk. She wondered, for a moment, what he really thought of this whole situation. It didn't seem like something he would be thrilled with, although it was difficult to judge by his reactions this morning since he had been aware of the… the plan… for a much longer time than she had been. 

She wondered, then, if her decision the night before to take Viktor up on his offer… to learn to fight fire with fire… had forced their hands. Had there been other options, before her actions of the previous evening? Pulling her courage around her, she put down her teacup and asked, "Were – were there any other plans… for what to do with me?" 

He finished his mouthful and sat back, studying her. She kept silent under his scrutiny, although her hands, hidden by the table, did have a tight grip on the sides of her chair. He nodded slightly. "Our original thought was to hide you at Beauxbatons; however, that is obviously no longer an option."

"Why-" she began, when he cut her off with an irritated look.

"Do you really have to ask that, Hermione? Your… mission… yesterday evening should tell you why that is no longer allowed. We will not permit your mind, your determination, your skill…" he stopped for a moment, breathing deeply, before continuing in a more moderate tone, "It is too easy, for people like us, to fall under the thrall of the Dark Arts. It would be too risky for our side, too dangerous, if your intellect and logic were to be turned against us. To be used as a weapon by the enemy." She said nothing, just looked away. "Your death would be preferable." At this, her eyes snapped back to meet his. His gaze was steady, unwavering, and she felt a chill when she realized that the words he had spoken were true. _Dumbledore and Snape really do think it would be preferable for me to die than…_she shook her head, confused. 

"But, Harry-"

"Would be far more upset at the thought of his best friend turning against him, embracing the Dark Arts, than at the thought of his best friend becoming yet another victim of the Dark Lord's plots," Severus interrupted smoothly. 

She remained silent. It was the truth, after all. And, from a purely logistic standpoint, she could see their reasoning. If she turned to the Dark Arts and was sucked in… _Each step seems but a small one_… Would it cause Harry to question his own loyalties? If his level-headed friend, the studious one, the voice of reason in their triumvirate, turned to the Dark Arts, would he then wonder… should I also learn to fight fire with fire? And then, where would the wizarding world be, if Harry fell under the thrall? It had been close… so close… if not for Severus' intervention…

Without realizing what she was saying, she blurted out, "Viktor wasn't expecting me. He didn't know I was coming." At his questioning gaze, she continued, "I… I wasn't sure if I could go through with it, and I didn't want to promise anything. He… he told me to come to his home, in Bulgaria, if I decided…" She swallowed and looked down. "I thought I was sure, but then… when you told me…" she paused for a moment before looking up at him. "Thank you," she whispered. 

"You're welcome," he answered in a low voice before averting his eyes. "I believe your things have arrived. And as I am under orders to shave before seeing the Headmaster, you will have to excuse me now." Without waiting for a response, he left the room.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

After a quick shower and shave, he felt much more like himself. The morning's discussions, along with the sudden release of tension that he felt when she agreed with the plan, had unnerved him more than he dared to show. He hadn't had much time to consider the full implications of the situation – he knew that the time would come, perhaps after the inevitable meeting tonight, but for now he was as relaxed as he could be. 

He sighed, closing his eyes. Without a doubt, once the signed betrothal contract was received at the Ministry, Lucius Malfoy would demand a meeting be called with the Dark Lord. Severus would have to plan his approach, his words, carefully. He needed an explanation for why he had challenged Lucius' plans for the girl without consulting the Circle first. He needed to convince the Dark Lord that she was better used as a willing spy than as an Imperio'ed slave… that it was better to twist her mind and force her to question her loyalties than to simply kill her as a means to punish the Boy Who Lived. 

He snorted inwardly and grabbed a fresh set of clothes from the heavy walnut wardrobe. Doubtless Lucius would repeat his rousing speech about the devastation Potter would experience when he ran across the brutalized body of his best friend. His _other _best friend, Severus amended. The boy had already had a similar experience when the two had found Weasley's body at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. 

Yes, his own speech outlining the rewards of bending the girl to his will using Slytherin cunning and skill would need to be extraordinary to overcome the bloodlust. It wouldn't be overly difficult. The plan was a good one, and the Dark Lord had always admired a cunning plan. Perhaps because the man had amazingly little subtlety of his own, Severus mused. 

As he closed the wardrobe he made a mental note to expand it later that day - or bring in a second one - for his future wife's needs. Now completely dressed, he walked to the doorway leading to the study and stopped in the opening, silently studying his… betrothed? Fiancée? He shook his head in irritation. The thorn in his side, would be a better term. But he supposed that wouldn't be the most politic expression to use when referring to the woman he would be married to in a week. 

She was sprawled on the rug in his – _their? _- study, close to the fireplace, poring over her textbooks. He held back a snort – likely she had already committed them to memory; but, if nothing else, the distraction would be good for her. As he watched, one delicate hand left the pages of the book and tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. He leaned against the doorframe, considering the young woman in the other room. That small body housed an amazing fusion of contrasting elements. At once young and mature, wise and naive, pure and sullied. A most complex mixture, indeed. 

He sighed quietly. What had he gotten himself into? Marrying a student? But she wouldn't be his student much longer – was no longer his student now, if the truth be told. The Headmaster himself had excused her from the rest of her classes. He raised an eyebrow. So - not his student any longer.

Snape had purposely avoided thinking about the more… intimate… details of the marriage law; its requirements in that regard were rather stringent. But… she was an innocent, for all that she was no longer a virgin. He shook his head slightly. No, it was not likely to be a true physical marriage, not the type he would have wanted… but perhaps in time… He stopped that line of thought as she began to chew her lower lip – a habit she had displayed since her first year in his class - and he scowled at the reminder of her youth. _Best not think of such things right now,_ _Severus_, he admonished himself. His fists clenched in frustration. 

_Damn Dumbledore. _

_Damn Lucius. _

_Damn Krum._

Dumbledore's plan… their plan… it was definitely not the solution he would have wished, but hopefully it would be successful. Miss Granger – no, _Hermione _– was a most formidable weapon, for either side. And if their conjectures were correct, the marriage and supposed manipulation of this most formidable weapon would move him higher in the Circle. Although he had told Hermione the truth when he said it was an added benefit only, he readily admitted that it did hold a great deal of appeal to him. The higher in the Circle he stood, the safer he would be. 

Of course, if their conjectures were incorrect, he would be dead before the next morning.

He frowned, brows furrowed in thought. He had been goading Dumbledore that morning, as the man well knew. Snape didn't have a death wish – not any longer, that is - but it was far too easy to annoy the older wizard. And rather enjoyable, he had to admit with a small smile. Granted, he had wished for death on occasion, particularly during the darker times of his life, before he had returned to Dumbledore's side as a spy. But now, after all the work he had put in over the years to see the defeat of the Dark Lord, he would like to survive to enjoy the fruit of his labors if victory should come to pass. 

The fruit of his labors. He had never considered marrying, not after living through the horror that was his parents' marriage. But… he watched as the firelight shone in the girl's hair. The young woman's hair. Like her body, it was composed of an amazing variety of elements – glints of red, brown, and black showed themselves within the mass of bushy curls. Dumbledore's comments came back to him, _Severus, I do think you're well suited, actually. You may find that you enjoy her company, in time. _He had dismissed the idea with a sneering comment, but now… 

No. The girl was an irritant, nothing more. 

And, for her part, she likely saw him in a similar light. They were being forced into this… and while they would both hopefully make the best of the situation he didn't believe that anything more would come of it than a companionable partnership. A friendship, perhaps. Anything more than that would be a ridiculous idea, a fool's dream.

Deciding to speak, he entered the room. "I must leave now, the Headmaster is expecting me." As he walked towards her she looked up and stood, brushing off her robes. "I will return shortly. In the meantime, you are not to leave these rooms. Anything you may need, you can summon a House Elf or contact Dumbledore's office via the floo. The powder is here," he said, indicating the small can of floo powder on the mantle. "Do not try to defeat the wards that are in place – they have been set to alert both myself and Albus if they are breached."

She nodded, seemingly acquiescent, but he didn't quite trust her. Especially when she looked that compliant. Years of cleaning up after the Terrible Three's messes haunted his memory, and… the girl wasn't meeting his eyes. He sighed. She was quite skilled enough to dismantle or avoid the wards if necessary, of that he had no doubt. Dumbledore may not think it to be true, he may assume the advanced wards were sufficient, but Severus had his suspicions about just how much Hermione had studied outside of the normal curriculum. 

He had to be certain that she had no idea, no plan, to leave. The danger was real, but that had never fazed her in the past. And, with her recent grief, she was understandably more reckless than normal. They simply couldn't afford for her to leave the chambers to search out her little Potter friend, or the Weasley chit. Draco would most likely be alerted immediately by his father once the missive was received at the Ministry. 

There was only one thing for it… well, two things, but he didn't think his… fiancée… would be too thrilled with being administered Veritaserum. She likely wouldn't be too thrilled with what he was about to do, either, but… he had to be sure.

Striding up to her quickly, he gripped her jaw with the fingers of one hand before she could react. Tilting her head up, he looked intently into her eyes, delving into her mind. She gasped in shock at the intrusion, but she stood straight and tall, not wavering as he delved deeper into her mind… until… he saw her eyes widen as he approached something… something that she was trying to hide… what was it? She pushed against him furtively. 

His eyes narrowed and his fingers tightened on her chin as he concentrated… her brown eyes flashed at him… it was something from this morning. A look of panic crossed her face and he increased his concentration tenfold… until he could almost… he could almost see it… all of a sudden, the image snapped into his head, along with a flood of accompanying emotions. His level of concentration had caused him to bring up more than just the image… 

A view of himself, standing in front of the fire… and then he could sense her … admiration? Approval? _Attraction_? This was an unexpected development, but useful nonetheless… and there was something about his voice… curious, he tried to catch that thought, also, but he suddenly found himself blocked from her mind. He released his grip on her chin and stepped back.  

They stared at each other a moment in silence, her eyes full of horror and embarrassment at what he had seen, at the emotions he had detected. He allowed a small smirk to come to his face. This would make things much easier, much easier indeed. He was delighted to see that, as the smirk on his face grew, the red in her cheeks increased. Deciding to have a little fun with it, he commented in a low, silky voice, "Well, that should make the situation a bit… easier to bear, I believe, Miss Granger?" He paused for a moment, savoring the astonished embarrassment on her face before he remembered the fleeting thought about his voice… In his silkiest tones, he added, "Pardon me – I meant, _Hermione_." Ah, yes, there was definitely a reaction to that. How intriguing.

Her embarrassment was turning to outrage, her brown eyes snapping, still speechless. He chuckled softly. "Very well, then. I will be on my way. I will return in a few hours." And without another word, he swept out of the room.

_______________________________________________________________

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please read and review – I have part of the next chapter written already, so with enough begging… :). I will update in a week at the most, possibly again in a couple of days depending on my time availability. Please review and tell me what you think – I'm trying my best to keep everyone in character throughout the story, taking into account the ways the situation will cause their character to change, so please let me know how I'm doing.

Subtilior – Thanks for reviewing! And rest assured, I'm not planning on her apprenticing with Snape – she's trying to avoid an unequal relationship, after all – that wouldn't make much sense. And on the wording… the frowning slightly while jumping back while burnt I read over and over… it bothered me, too, but I left it in the end – to illustrate his conflicting feelings. The crumble slightly… don't agree with you there – to me, crumple is to fall all the way down, where as crumbling – like a cookie, just the edges are flaking off into crumbs… that's how I envision it, at least! Thanks for the feedback, though… I may go back and change the Severus bit. It's still kind of jarring when I reread it… hmm.

Jen – Thanks! I'm trying to keep it realistic, and I well remember the day I first saw a male teacher as just a man… wow. He was a hotty, too, and it still took me a while to recognize it. And yep - I'm thinking it will be weekly… ;)

Anarane Anwamane – Thanks for reviewing!

Kerfol – Thank you! I'm glad you liked the dream snatches. And – on Dumbledore – he's not evil, neither is Harry. Dumbledore has the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders, and as a result – like any military leader – he has to weigh everything against the greater good and when that happens, sometimes the "little guy" gets trampled on. More on that will come out as the story unfolds… 

The Fruit – Elements of darkness all the way through, but for our main protagonists… there will be light at the end of the tunnel ;). Snape will NOT turn into a flowers and candy kind of guy, though…

Lizzie – Thanks! I'm glad you like my Dumbledore interpretation so far.

Anony – teehee @ weekly!weekly!weekly! – That's the way I'm leaning right now ;)

Electryone – Thanks! I'm glad you think it's plausible… and I agree -  poor Hermione, she's been through a lot. 

Droxy – Thanks for the reviews!!

Crookshanks1381 – Thanks! I'm very glad that so many people see it as plausible, that was entirely what I was aiming for when I started the fic. Yippee! 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**  
WendyNat  
  
Chapter 5

~~~~~~~

Hermione stared at the closed door, rage and embarrassment battling for supremacy. Her fists clenched, and she let out an inarticulate cry of frustration. Her cheeks flamed red. _Oh, my God… I can't _believe _he saw that…what must he think of me now… _

Then, rage won out. _How DARE he? _No word, no warning, just grabbed her chin like a recalcitrant child and raided her mind… an invasion of the most personal… what did he think gave him the right… _The BASTARD…_

The bastard she would be married to in a week. 

She didn't know how long she stood there, glaring at the closed door, before she began to calm down and consider the situation rationally. Her natural curiosity asserted itself, and her mind began to work on _why _he had done what he did. Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House and Death Eater spy, did not do anything without a reason. So - what had led up to it? What had he been searching for?

She frowned as she thought back over the events… what had happened? He had been telling her not to leave the rooms… then she remembered looking at him as he stood in front of her, clad in his familiar high-necked, multi-buttoned coat and black robes, and she remembered how she couldn't keep her mind from thinking back to how he had looked earlier… from thinking about how she had felt, in response. And then, embarrassed at her thoughts, she had averted her eyes… Right. She had to admit, now, that that must have seemed rather suspicious to the observant man. 

_He must have thought I was planning something._ Planning to leave, perhaps, and find Harry… or even to find Viktor?

She relaxed slightly. Well, that made sense, at least. But… couldn't he have _asked _her first? And when he saw… _that… _did he have to humiliate her afterwards? Her mouth twisted as she remembered his words after she had pushed him from her mind: _Well, that should make the situation a bit… easier to bear, I believe, Miss Granger?_ She could feel her cheeks getting hot at the memory.

Not to mention that damned smirk… and that voice he had used…

That _sexy_ voice he had used…

Angrily, she shook her head. At least she had been able to hide _that _thought from him… She sighed. It was so utterly ridiculous. Twenty-four hours ago, she had entertained no thoughts about Severus Snape as anything other than her often-irritating-but-much-respected Professor. No thoughts of him as a… as a man – and _certainly _no thoughts of him as an _attractive _man. 

Well, if she were honest with herself she would have to admit that she had always appreciated his voice. But - only in the way a person would appreciate a fine musical instrument… not as something that… that… "That turns me on," she admitted to herself in a whisper. She covered her face with her hands. Gods – _what _was wrong with her? This was Professor Snape she was thinking about!

_Your fiancé_, her inner voice whispered. _And you'd better get used to the idea._

Pulling her hands away from her face, she settled back down on the floor, running her fingers absently over the thick pile of the rug. Was it really such a bad thing that he knew she was… was attracted to him? It indeed would, she supposed, make things easier. But… she couldn't stop the question from forming in her mind - _Was he attracted to _her? 

_Probably not, _she realized glumly, picking at a loose thread on the rug. He had given no indication that he was… but then, she really didn't know him well enough to tell. Ron and Harry, even Viktor, were so easy to read in that regard, but she didn't have much experience with any other men – friends or otherwise. Ron, in particular, had been like an open book to her… _Oh, Ron…_

She blinked back tears as a wave of guilt swept over her. Was she really sitting in Professor Snape's study, worried that the man may not be attracted to her? When a week ago… just a week ago… Ron had been killed. Murdered. 

Because of her. 

_My fault. _

And she was doing nothing about it, nothing… 

_You cannot bring back the dead._

She let the tears fall.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Snape smirked to himself as he strode up the stairs from the dungeons. _Very… informative,_ he thought. He would have to consider, later, how best to make use of this unexpected twist. Now, however, he had to concentrate on surviving tonight's meeting. 

As he walked, he was pleased at the way the students parted before him, sneering as they tried to shrink from him in fear of losing House Points. He snorted to himself. _House Points. _As if that silly contest actually mattered, with everything else going on… although, he had to admit, it was an enjoyable distraction at times. Especially when he had been able to goad McGonagall over the six straight years of wins that Slytherin had enjoyed… before _Potter _and his gang had shown up. He shook his head in disgust. The Headmaster was nauseatingly partial to the boy. 

Potter and his gang. He sighed inwardly as he approached the Headmaster's office. The Terrible Three, the Dream Team - as he had dubbed them during that fool Lockhart's dueling exhibition years ago - had been reduced by one… and, depending on Potter's reaction to Hermione's decision, it may be reduced to nothing. 

He stated the password with a sour look on his face. "Droobles Best Blowing Gum." He was convinced the Headmaster used such ridiculous passwords simply to irritate him. As he went up the moving staircase, he shook his head in exasperation at the thought.

"Severus, come in, come in," Albus' familiar cheerful voice rang out as he waved Snape to the chair in front of his desk. 

"Albus," he said by way of greeting as he took his seat. 

Dumbledore sat back in his chair, his keen blue eyes fixed on the dark man in front of him. "Did Miss Granger's items get delivered?" 

Snape frowned at the older wizard and adjusted his robes irritably. "You know that they did, Albus. She's currently lounging on the floor in my study, reading over texts that she's already committed to memory," he said. _Or she's still standing, mouth open, staring at the door…thinking up interesting hexes to use against me when I return, _he added silently_. _

"I see," Albus said musingly. "The proposal has been sent. Have you prepared what you will say at tonight's inevitable meeting?"

"I believe so, Headmaster," Snape said in clipped tones, running one hand through his hair. "I think the Dark Lord will be open to the idea of using her as a spy against Potter. I will be sure to emphasize the beauty of the betrayal, when Potter finds out his last remaining close friend has turned against him. It's the sort of thing a megalomaniac would find enticing. Although… there is a possible flaw in this plan of ours, Albus."  Albus lifted a questioning eyebrow, and Snape let out an irritated breath. "Have you considered the fact that the boy despises me? And will likely despise Miss Granger-"

"Hermione," Albus interrupted with a twinkle in his eye. 

Snape gave him a murderous glare before continuing, "Have you considered that he may turn against her when he finds out about her decision?"

"I don't believe th-"

"Damn it, Albus!" Snape snapped, getting to his feet and pacing restlessly. "You also didn't want to believe that Miss Gr- that _Hermione – would stoop so __low as to seek knowledge of the Dark Arts, did you?" The Headmaster remained silent. As Severus walked back and forth, he had a disturbing thought. "In fact…" _

"Yes?"

"I wonder, now… if she has already tried to learn… on her own, perhaps…" Snape said, his brow furrowed. It would explain the strange… affinity… he had felt toward her the past few days. He had certainly never felt anything of the kind before, as far as Hermione was concerned. _Like calls to like, he thought ruefully. It was that strange affinity which had prompted him to speak so openly to the girl the previous night… more openly, in fact, than he had spoken to anyone else in his memory… with the exception of the Headmaster._

Albus sat still, his fingers steepled under his chin, as he considered Snape's words. Finally, he let out a sigh and, looking every bit of his 150 years, said, "I don't know, Severus. I am afraid that it is entirely possible – Miss Granger has always sought knowledge, forbidden or not. I should have seen it before you brought your fears to me. Have you…" the older wizard paused, breathing in deeply before continuing, "Yesterday evening, did you get an opportunity to speak to her about the true danger of this… course of study?"

Severus shook his head. "In a general sense, only. I… skirted… the subject, Albus. It wasn't… fortunately, it wasn't necessary to tell her… of _that_… in order to turn her from her path.I suppose… well, if she _has_ begun to read on the subject, she could not have gotten far. We would have noticed the signs. I can say, for a certainty, that it is not in her nature… the aftereffects would have been obvious." 

Albus nodded thoughtfully. "As they were with you – what did your parents pass it off as?" Severus resumed pacing and did not answer. He heard Albus sigh before the wizard continued. "I believe you are correct… but we have to handle this carefully, Severus… _you _have to handle this carefully. I do not want her blindly trying to find her way in this, of all things." Snape nodded warily. "Severus – if she shows any desire to begin, or continue, an independent study… you must tell her. You must tell her about the Call of the Blood." 

Snape stopped pacing, his back facing the Headmaster, as he fought for control. _You must tell her about the Call of the Blood. _While not strictly forbidden to speak of it, it was not… encouraged. Few wizards or witches that had not studied Dark Arts in depth were familiar with it… Albus Dumbledore was one of those few. 

Severus had hoped to avoid… but he knew, with a sinking feeling, that Albus was correct. If she had already begun, if there was a chance that the Call had started to take hold already, even the tiniest bit… she would have to be guided carefully. Fortunately, it appeared he would be in an ideal position to do so – they would be spending a large amount of time together, after all. _The Call of the Blood…_

With a shaking hand, he pushed the lank hair away from his face and turned to face the older wizard. "Yes, Headmaster. If she shows the desire… I will do as you say."

Albus let out a relieved breath, surprising Snape. "Thank you, child. You are the only one here who can guide her in this…" Albus stopped and looked at his hands. "Have I ever told you, Severus? Have I ever told you how in awe I am, how much admiration I have, at your ability to turn your back on the Call? To resist it? It is a testament to your will, your strength… I don't believe there have been more than a three people in this century who have been able to do what you have done. And live." 

Severus answered in a hollow voice, "Yes."  

"Well." Albus sat back in his chair and regarded him silently. With years of practice, Severus was able to return the gaze evenly, emotionlessly. After a short time, Albus said, "I will trust your judgment as to whether or not she must be told… and, at any rate, I do believe we have some time. You may wish to wait until after the current… excitement… has died down."

Severus nodded and returned to the chair, eyeing the silver-haired wizard tiredly. "Albus – what of Potter? If he turns against her over this decision, our plan will fail before it even gets off the ground."

Albus nodded slowly. "I do see your point, Severus. I will speak with him, and explain the situation. Although, I do think you give the boy too little credit."

"And I believe you give him too much credit, Albus, but we'll see," Snape said in a flat voice. 

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

As expected, the call came just after dusk. 

He was sitting in the study, marking papers at the corner desk and trying to ignore the young woman stretched out in front of the fireplace. It had been a tense afternoon. After speaking with Albus, he had attended lunch in the Great Hall – it would not do for anyone to recall that they had both been absent for meals that weekend when the proposal became public knowledge. They could afford no hints of impropriety, as Dumbledore had stated.

He had been surprised, upon entering the chambers, when she did not immediately confront him concerning the liberties he had taken earlier that morning. As tacit reward for her restraint, he had felt compelled to offer an explanation – rather short of an apology, of course – for his actions. She had simply nodded in response and stated that she had figured it out on her own. _But thank you, Professor, for the explanation, _she had stated with a small, tight smile.Still cool, still tense, but far better than he had expected. He made no further reference to what he had seen, and over the course of the afternoon she had thawed a bit towards him.

He was not used to sharing his personal space with anyone, so he was pleased when she did not - as he had half expected - pester him all afternoon. Instead, they had each spent the time following their own pursuits. He had added another wardrobe to the bedroom and made some other minor adjustments to his chambers to accommodate her presence before sitting down to go over the third year Potions essays. Hermione had spent almost the entire afternoon studying, aside from the time she had taken to move her things into the wardrobe and bookshelves he had provided.

And so the afternoon passed. He noticed her watching him at times but made no mention of it, though it secretly pleased him. Realizing that the acting ability of the average Gryffindor fell quite short of the mark, an honest… attachment… to him would be most beneficial to their plan. When dinnertime came, he ordered a meal from the kitchens and they consumed it as they continued working on their individual tasks. 

An hour later, the Dark Mark began to burn. 

Without a word, he rose from his chair and went into the bedroom, leaning his head against his wardrobe for a moment as he prepared his mind for the upcoming gathering. As he stood there, his forehead resting against the coolness of the wood, he felt a presence behind him. Without moving his head, he acknowledged her with a simple, "Miss Granger."

"Hermione," she corrected, her voice steady but low.

"So – we're back on first name terms, then?" he asked wryly, pulling his head back to look at her. "Hermione."

She stared at him silently for a moment before whispering, "You're being called, aren't you?"

"An astute observation," he said coolly, opening the wardrobe and pulling out the appropriate robes. He changed quickly, throwing off his regular black teaching robes and pulling the thicker, heavier Death Eater robes on over his coat and trousers. The mask in one of the inner pockets banged against his leg as he turned to face her. 

"Will you… is it…" Hermione began before stopping and chewing on her bottom lip. He waited, staring at her intently. Her brown eyes looked troubled. "Be careful." 

He nodded sharply and then, on an impulse, he tentatively put a hand to her cheek. To his surprise, she leaned into his touch and he fought the instinct to pull away. "I will," he said simply before letting his hand drop. They stood, awkwardly, staring at each other in silence until she smiled nervously. 

"And don't worry, I won't… I won't leave the rooms while you're gone."

He smirked in response and nodded. Walking past her, he muttered the incantation to reveal the small hidden box sitting on the bedside table. Quickly removing the contents, he turned back to her with a serious expression. She was still standing uncertainly by the wardrobe. "Please floo the Headmaster and inform him that I was called." She nodded and opened her mouth, pausing for a moment before closing it without a sound. 

She held his gaze as he whispered the incantation to activate the Portkey. He felt the familiar pulling sensation around the area of his navel, and an instant later he found himself in the Shrieking Shack. Pocketing the Portkey, he drew out the silver mask and slowly placed it on his head. Taking a deep breath and clearing his mind, he lifted the left sleeve of his robes, pushed back the coat sleeve, and touched the Dark Mark as he Apparated.

Immediately he knelt, his head bowed, waiting for permission to stand. He could hear voices, one of which was raised in anger. Lucius Malfoy. He fought back a wicked grin. The man certainly sounded irate. 

The Dark Lord's hissing voice broke through Malfoy's tirade. "Severus. How good of you to join us. Stand."

Carefully flooding his mind with feelings of obedience, loyalty, and devotion, he rose slowly from the roughly sanded floor. They appeared to be in an abandoned building of some sort. "My Lord," he said in a low voice as he brought his eyes up to meet those of the Dark Lord. 

"Explain, Severus." The Dark Lord's voice was cold, but thankfully neutral. 

"Yes, my Lord," Snape said, and then he began his speech. As he spoke, he took note of the other Death Eaters that were present. There weren't many – it appeared only the higher ranking members of the Inner Circle had been called. Whether that was a good sign or a bad sign, he could not guess. Looking directly into the Dark Lord's eyes, he could feel his mind being examined as he spoke. With careful deliberation, he allowed certain images to spin out. 

_Himself, holding Hermione as she wept against his robes in his office the night before._

_Hermione, in Dumbledore's office after her parents' death, when she had first received the betrothal proposal from Lucius on behalf of Draco. "No! I hate him! I'd rather die first! I'll kill myself before being married to him!" _

_And, again, Hermione, as she leaned into his touch… as she asked him to be careful with worry in her brown eyes._

With satisfaction, he saw the Dark Lord begin to nod as he concluded, "Rather than the crude plan that my Brother spoke of when last we met, my Lord, I feel that this situation begs for a more delicate treatment. The subtle manipulation of Harry Potter's best friend, his last loved one left alive, would benefit us far greater than another show of simple brutality. Especially since this manipulation can be performed underneath Dumbledore's very nose, with his full, unwitting consent. Think of it, my Lord - when her betrayal becomes evident, it will be a blow to them both – your two greatest enemies." He paused a moment for effect before adding, "My Lord, while it would be undeniably satisfying to see the Mudblood scream for mercy as her blood is spilt in your name, there is a better use for the girl." 

The Dark Lord stared at Snape silently. He felt, once again, his mind being prodded and he dutifully brought forward more selected images.

_Dumbledore, as they sat in his chambers that morning, saying, "Miss Granger… Voldemort wishes for you to marry a Death Eater. And… we just happen to have one right here."_

_Hermione, as she slept in his bed, his hand held against her cheek. _

He waited, his mind interspersing those images with more innocuous ones of everyday life: taking points from students, bits of his childhood, teaching classes… 

The Dark Lord finally favored him with a short smile, and he held back a relieved sigh. Lucius, who had been watching and listening intently, seemed to realize that the Dark Lord was in favor of Snape's plan and stepped forward.  "My Lord, the plan is a good one, as we can all see," he said smoothly, casually walking around them until he stood slightly behind Snape, out of the dark-haired man's line of sight. "However, should not my own son be the one to perform this task? He is, of course, closer in age and will draw less attention-"

"The girl hates him, Brother. He lacks subtlety. And, perhaps most importantly, he is too far below her level of intellect to perform the task appropriately," Snape sneered, his hand on his wand as he blindly awaited Malfoy's response. He dared not take his eyes from the Dark Lord. Goading Malfoy was a risk, but it was a calculated risk. _Anger the man, keep him off-balance, keep him from thinking of any valid flaws with the plan…_

The response came quickly. He bit back a cry as the hex bit through his shoulder, cutting through skin and muscle. A slicing curse of some sort. Keeping in mind their respective positions in the Circle, he did not dare retaliate; instead, he stood confidently – after regaining his balance - and kept his eyes firmly on the Dark Lord as he ignored the sharp pain in his shoulder.

The Dark Lord's hissing voice broke the stillness. "No, Lucius. Severus is correct – the Mudblood despises your son. The girl has even pledged to take her own life should she have to marry the boy. It appears that you still have much to teach the boy of charm, Lucius." He paused, smiling coldly, while the other members of the Circle laughed. Severus and Lucius were the only two who did not respond. The Dark Lord's eyes fixed on Lucius malevolently. "I'm sure you realize that I would not want to waste a prize such as this." Snape did let out a sigh of relief at this, mentally congratulating himself for choosing the correct images.

"My Lord, surely she feels just as strongly about-"

"Lucius, you question my decision?" The Dark Lord's eyes glowed maliciously, the red slits narrowing. Snape couldn't smother an evil grin and was thankful for the concealing mask.

"No, my Lord. Of course not, my Lord. My Lord is wise, in this as in all things," Lucius said quickly, his boots scraping on the rough floorboards as he hastily knelt.  

The Dark Lord walked slowly towards Lucius, staring down at his bowed form. "The chit knows you are a Death Eater, Lucius. She has known this since you bungled the mission in the Department of Mysteries. It is obvious that the Mudblood also knows where your son's loyalties lie."

"But, my Lord, she also knows Severus is-" The blond man stopped speaking suddenly when he saw the Dark Lord raise his wand. "My Lord, please, I meant no-"

"_Crucio!_" The Dark Lord said casually, holding the curse for a few minutes before releasing Malfoy from its grasp. The blond man gulped air and shuddered as the Dark Lord lowered his wand. He continued to speak, as if there had been no interruption. "She believes Severus to be Dumbledore's spy. The Mudblood trusts him," the Dark Lord said with a cold laugh. "Severus is a skilled manipulator – he has already begun, in fact. Haven't you, Severus?" The Dark Lord then fixed his cold gaze on Severus, who bowed.

"Yes, my Lord. My Lord is wise," Snape murmured obediently, maintaining the obeisance. He was uncomfortably aware of the blood trickling down his shoulder. For some reason, the slow trickling bothered him more than the pain from the wound itself. 

"Yes, you have already begun manipulating the girl… and yet, you did so without my blessing. Without my… permission."

A cold knot formed in his stomach. He forced his voice to remain steady as he answered, "My Lord – I did not want to waste the opportunity I was granted. And, as I am not at a level in the Circle that allows me to request your presence, I was unable to consult with you before acting." He held his breath, still bent low, unable to see the Dark Lord's face. Would it work? Would he take the bait?

He could feel the weight of the Dark Lord's stare for long moments. Sweat trickled across his neck, running across his shoulder, stinging in the gash. Finally, after a long wait, the Dark Lord hissed, "Rise, Severus." He straightened tensely, steeling himself for the expected punishment. The Dark Lord reached over and grabbed his left arm, pushing the sleeves up to expose the Dark Mark. Snape's throat went dry and he flooded his mind, once again, with safe images, with feelings of loyalty, obedience… One long white finger traced the Mark on his forearm. It burned for a moment as the Dark Lord hissed an incantation under his breath. 

His arm was dropped, then, and the Dark Lord whispered, "Look at me, Severus." Immediately, his gaze flew up to meet the Dark Lord's. "Severus Snape, my spy, my loyal servant… take your new place in my Inner Circle next to your Brother Rodolphus." 

"Thank you my Lord," Snape said, bowing once more before moving to his new position. Rodolphus Lestrange gave him a respectful nod as he walked by and he gave an answering nod, smiling behind the mask. In relief.

It had worked. He was now part of the upper faction of the Inner Circle.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Snape was dismissed soon after. He immediately Apparated to the Shrieking Shack, where he waited for a few moments to ensure he had no pursuers before activating the Portkey which would take him directly to Professor Dumbledore's office. 

"Severus," Albus said, standing from his desk with unmasked relief on his face. _So he wasn't quite as confident as he had seemed, _Snape thought wryly. "How did the meeting go?"

He smirked. "Well, Headmaster – it obviously went quite well. Else I would be lying dead in an abandoned house somewhere."

The Headmaster's eyebrows drew together and he snapped, "Severus!" Snape just strode over and, reaching out a long arm, stole a lemon drop from the container on the man's desk. He then sat, popped the sweet into his mouth, and grinned at the silver-haired wizard. Albus looked at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. "Very well, then Severus. Well done, child. Well done. And… is it as we hoped? Did he…"

"Like the plan? Move me to the upper faction? Move Lucius down a few positions? Yes. Yes. And yes," Snape said. He was smiling again, the adrenaline and relief from the evening's events still coursing through his body, making him feel uncharacteristically giddy. He sat up in the chair and winced as something else from the evening's events made itself known. _Damned Lucius. _

Albus' eyes watched him keenly, not missing his grimace when he moved his shoulder without thinking. "I suppose Lucius did not take the news well?"

Snape laughed hollowly. "You could say that, Albus. He attempted to… convince the Dark Lord that Draco could play the role, could be the manipulator. I needed him off-balance, and so I made an observation that he did not appreciate. Lucius reacted much as I expected."

"Do you need to see Poppy?" Albus said, concern etched on his features. 

"It was just a simple slicing hex, Albus," Snape said, shaking his head. "Not very deep. I can take care of it in my chambers – there's no need to disturb Poppy." _There's no need to allow that insufferable woman to perform her mother-hen impression,_ Snape thought with a small sneer.

Albus smiled knowingly. "Very well, then, Severus. I'm sure you know best." Snape nodded curtly and rose to his feet. Before he reached the door, Albus' voice sounded behind him. "Oh, and Severus? I believe Miss Granger has studied some healing charms. Perhaps she would accommodate you, if you asked her pleasantly." 

He turned to face the older wizard with a glare, then whirled back around without a word and swept from the office, Albus' chuckles following him. 

____________________________________________________________________

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Again, I'm hoping that the characters are still as "in character" as possible. Let me know, either way. Please review!!! I even updated early! Chapter 6 is already part of the way completed (as is Chapter 20 of Some Scars Never Fade) – so with enough prompting… I may finish it faster than a week…. :)

DagginLady – Thanks! I'm glad you like my approach to the Challenge.

Jen (HunnySnowBunny) – Love your penname, by the way! I'm glad you like that he knows of her attraction – I want this Severus confident, dark, and a little mean… as close to canon as I can ;). So, no room for insecurity (yet). Sorry – didn't do the entire speech but I hope you were happy with the concluding paragraph of the speech to Voldemort…

Lizzie – Get in line! :)

Louise – Hi! This Snape is different from my Snape in the other fics, in a lot of ways – I hope you still like him in this "guise".

Serpens Potio – I love using the minor characters in my fanfics… not a big fan of original characters, so I pluck a little minor character from the books and give 'em some screen time. Thanks! I hope you still think Sev is in character… and Hermione, too, of course ;)

Fleria – We'll see… he's still Slytherin to the core, of course…

Katie – Glad you liked the Legilimency trick he used at the end of Ch4

Subtilior – Thanks – and no, not too picky at ALL, please continue! Any and all comments are appreciated, especially ones that make me think over my words. I hope you thought Hermione's response was realistic here. I promise more shots of leanmuscular!Snape in the next chapter ;).

McWitch, babygidgurl, Anarane Anwamane, – Thanks so much for the reviews!!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**  
WendyNat  
  
Chapter 6

~~~~~~~

_Meddling old fool, _Snape fumed, his robes whipping around him as he strode down the dungeon stairs to his personal chambers. It was well after curfew, so the halls were blissfully empty of students. When he reached the door to his – _their – chambers, he paused for a moment to get his irritation under control. And, as he calmed down, he began to think over Albus' words. _

Perhaps Albus had a point… Miss Granger _had studied a number of mediwizardry spells for a special project in her sixth year… and it would be infinitely preferable for Miss Granger to tend his wound than subject himself to the nattering of Madam Pomfrey, who - though quite skilled - was infamous for treating everyone in her care as a wayward child. And from personal experience, he knew just how awkward healing a body part that wasn't readily accessible – or visible – could be. Most of the slice had occurred on the back part of his shoulder. _

Shaking his head resolutely, he snorted at himself and raised his wand to lower the wards. He had healed his own injuries countless times before, many far more serious than a simple slicing hex. There was no need to… he stopped suddenly when another thought occurred to him. The Dark Lord would likely call him back soon to check on his… progress. A few more images to feed the suspicious wizard would be valuable... he needed to prove that his plan was moving forward steadily… yes, perhaps Albus did have a point, after all. 

He entered the chambers, kicking off his boots in the entrance hall before making his way into the study where he was not surprised to see Hermione – this time seated at his desk – reading a textbook. She looked up when she heard him enter and the intense relief in her face took him aback. "You're back!"

"A most astute observation," he said dryly, the pain in his shoulder sharpening as the rest of his body relaxed in the comfortable surroundings of his own chambers. To his astonishment, she didn't comment on his sarcastic remark – instead she rose from the desk and trailed behind him quietly as he made his way to the bedroom.  

"Is that your blood?" she asked in a whisper as he stood at the wardrobe. He turned to look at her, noticing the lines of tension in her face, and nodded.

"Perhaps you would be so kind as to assist me with this small gift from Lucius," Snape said, removing his outer robe carefully. Blood had seeped through the layers of cloth and dried, making the removal tedious. Each successive layer would likely be increasingly difficult to remove without causing further damage. "After all, I did receive it defending your honor, Miss Granger," he said sardonically, one eyebrow raised as he caught her eye. 

"Hermione," she corrected absently, walking up to him to get a better look at his shoulder. "Hmm. We'll have to be careful removing the other layers – slicing hex?" Snape simply nodded in response. "Come on – it'll be easier to do this in the bathroom."

They moved into the adjoining room, where she urged him to sit in front of the mirror. He complied without objection, and he could see her reflection frowning slightly as she looked at the blood-crusted coat. "Defending my honor, you said?"

"Indeed. Lucius had the idea that Draco would be a better person to twist your loyalties, so to speak."

"Oh, really," Hermione said, not looking up from her perusal. 

"Yes," Severus drawled. "Of course, I was forced to point out that not only does the boy have the subtlety and manipulative ability of Grawp, he is also too far your intellectual inferior to even make the attempt."

She smiled at that. "Why, I do believe that was a compliment."

"Don't become too accustomed to it, Miss Granger," he said with a small sneer.

A furrow appeared between her brows and she looked up, her gaze meeting his in the mirror. _Ah – that angered her_, he thought with amusement. In an irritated voice, she declared,"Soon enough it'll be Mrs. Snape – so don't you think you'd better get out of the habit of calling me Miss Granger, _Severus_?" He was pleased… anger was easily twisted into other emotions, as he well knew. _Time to put her off-balance._

"Yes," he said softly, turning to look into her eyes with calculated intensity. 

He smiled inwardly when she flushed and stammered, "Well, um… well, maybe you should… unbutton your coat…" With a small nod, he began to peel off his coat, frowning in irritation as the fabric stuck to the bloodied shirt underneath. _Damn Lucius _and_ his worthless spawn, he thought savagely. _

She reached over quickly to assist him in separating the two layers. "The final layer will likely cause the most trouble," she said in a low voice, almost as if speaking to herself.

"I am well aware of that, Miss- Hermione."

She frowned. "Right. Listen, I talk while I work, so either handle this yourself or keep the sarcasm to a minimum, all right?" She paused a moment before adding, "_Severus._" Her brown eyes flashed as she looked at him.

He looked at her silently for a moment, contemplating his answer, before giving her a smirk. "And as I make sarcastic remarks when I'm in pain, _Hermione_, it appears we may be at an impasse." 

To his amazement, she began to laugh. "Point taken. I'll ignore your sarcastic wit if you can ignore my running commentary. But, just a warning - I'll be none too gentle if you get out of line."

He raised an eyebrow at this, a small smile coming to his lips. He was pleased with her response. Very few people appreciated his subtle sense of humor, and fewer still felt at ease enough to banter with him. Perhaps sharing his accommodations with her wouldn't be as tiresome as he'd originally anticipated. 

"All right, then, this is likely to hurt a bit, until we get the shirt detached… and then it ought to be clean sailing, so to speak… although I suppose the cleaning bit may smart some… but I imagine you're used to worse pain than that," she murmured under her breath as she pulled his coat the rest of the way off. Her running commentary was annoying, but at least the volume was low. His fingers rose to unbutton his shirt, and she busied herself with folding his coat and carefully laying it on the bench, unable to keep a dark flush from overtaking her features. 

He watched the involuntary response with interest. So, perhaps the image he saw that morning wasn't just a fluke… she was attracted to him. Although he wasn't a conventionally attractive man, he was aware that he had… what was it that Rodolphus and Lucius called it? Sex appeal? 

He didn't quite understand it, but the effects had been evident as he matured and women began to approach him. Not generally younger women – he had rarely had issues with student crushes, as some of the other young teachers did - but older, more experienced women… he smirked as he finished undoing the buttons down the front of his shirt. He could still remember the first time a woman turned down Malfoy to approach him… he, of the hooked nose and pale skin… she had been most fascinated by his voice, as he recalled. The woman had been beautiful. 

Lucius had been furious.

There had been more after that – many more. Women attracted to dark, brooding men… dangerous men… Snape eyed his reflection critically. No, definitely not handsome – but certainly dark and brooding. As a fledgling Death Eater he had been _assigned _to Lucius Malfoy, who committed himself to showing the younger man the many virtues of being part of their ranks. After meetings, the blond wizard had taken him to a number of establishments that were frequented by such women – most in Knockturn Alley or similar venues. 

Strangely enough, Lucius – perhaps the most dangerous, evil man Severus knew besides the Dark Lord himself – did not easily attract those types of women. The strikingly handsome man had no difficulties attracting women in general, of course… but the women that liked to flirt with the darker side, those that were more open to… experimentation… constantly overlooked the man because of his pretty face. _Looks truly can be deceiving_, Snape mused. It had caused him no end of amusement over the years that women seeking out darkness and danger found him appealing while Lucius, with his angelic good looks, was passed over. 

Smiling inwardly at his thoughts, he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and extracted his uninjured arm before turning to Hermione. She was still flushing – partially from embarrassment this time, perhaps, as she undoubtedly recalled the images he had seen that morning in her mind. 

No, he mused, he certainly hadn't expected to have that effect on Miss Granger, young as she was. Innocent as she was.

Innocent? He frowned slightly, studying the girl as she began to pull the thin cloth of his shirt gingerly away from the wound. It was attached rather firmly, particularly along the bottom of the wound. As she slowly peeled the shirt away, blood welled up once more from the wound and he saw her face go pale. She paused for a moment, then her eyes hardened and she continued. 

Overtaken by memory, most likely, he reflected, examining the girl. No, not quite innocent – what innocent woman would decide to avenge her loved ones' deaths by studying the Dark Arts… what innocent woman would agree to marry _him_, knowing his past? Not that she had had much choice, he acknowledged silently, looking down at his hands. 

Knowing his past… he flicked his eyes back up to stare at the young woman standing beside him, a frown of concentration on her face as she finally freed his shirt and pushed it off completely, studying the wound with a critical eye. She knew more of his past than anyone other than Albus Dumbledore. He still was surprised at how much he had told Hermione that night – had it really been only yesterday evening? - but she had reminded him so much of himself at her age - so much anger, the burning need for revenge… pain and fury emanating from her in waves… it would devour her, if she let it. The Call of the Blood… no, he couldn't stand to see that happen.

_Far better for her to die, first... than to follow the path that I took, _he thought. 

She ran some water on a flannel and began to clean the wound, once again muttering a running commentary as she concentrated. "Any large pieces of foreign substances in the open tissue will cause problems during healing…" That sounded like a quote from a textbook. The girl had an amazing memory capacity. "I'm sure there must be some pieces of your shirt and coat in here… I was right, here's one…" 

Snape stared at her in the mirror, watching the candlelight glinting in her hair, lost in thought. In one week, this young woman would be his wife. Now that he had time to think about it… he was unsure how he felt. It was necessity, an obligation, an abstract idea. However, soon that abstract idea would become a harsh reality - tangible, true. Unavoidable. Eyeing the swell of her hips as she moved around him, he couldn't claim to be completely averse to the idea. 

He winced slightly as she scrubbed harder than strictly necessary at the slice. She was doubtless still irked at him for his invasion earlier that day. Since he had discovered her… attraction… that morning, he had not been able to push the thought entirely from his head. Whenever the thought had risen, unbidden, to the forefront of his mind, he had had to remind himself that she was an innocent, still – at least in that regard – and unlikely to be open to his… truer… desires. 

He sighed inwardly. He would have to hold back if this fiasco was to fool the Dark Lord. When the powerful wizard delved into her mind – and he most definitely would - she could not seem in any way reluctant concerning her husband – her manipulator. She had to trust him implicitly. He blew out a breath, ignoring the odd look she gave him before she turned her attention back to her task. If the Dark Lord was not fooled… it would mean both of their deaths. 

It would take work. Unfortunately, the girl was very much a Gryffindor – her emotions so evident, so strong… and he had no faith in her ability to hide them, even _with_ training. While Snape did plan to work with her on her Occlumency skills, the ability to hide emotions was much more difficult than the ability to hide images. No, he realized with a jolt - the safest path would be to manipulate her emotions in truth. His brow furrowed slightly. If she were to fall in love with him… 

His mouth twisted at the thought. Fondness, at least, would be enough. But if there were stronger emotions involved… if the Dark Lord believed her to be loyal to Severus Snape without question… then even if the powerful wizard sensed her true feelings concerning the Death Eaters and their cause, it would be tolerable. Perhaps even more than tolerable – there was a certain elegance in twisting someone's mind so that their actions actually benefited those they hated. _Yes_, he thought, _that would definitely appeal to the Dark Lord_.  

Hermione was still muttering under her breath as she pulled out another scrap of fabric, frowning ferociously. So strong-minded… no, it wouldn't be easy. Although… thinking back to what he had seen that morning in her mind… perhaps it wouldn't be an overly difficult manipulation. The young often connected emotional intimacy with physical intimacy. And while he wasn't very experienced with the former, he _was_ quite skilled in the latter. 

_Yes_, he decided, watching as she finally finished cleaning his wound and lifted her wand to seal it, _I can definitely use that to my advantage_. It would be rather easy, actually, with someone of her relative innocence level… and it would certainly be safer, for all involved, than trusting her ability to hide her emotions from one of the greatest Legilimens of all time. _No time like now to begin_, he thought as she finished tending his shoulder and moved back in front of him. 

"Thank you," he said in a low, silky voice, flexing the newly healed shoulder. He noted with interest that her breathing increased, and he couldn't keep his lips from curving into a small smile. _No, this won't be too difficult at all. He touched her cheek gently, this time allowing his fingers to linger and trail softly downwards to her jawline before he pulled his hand away. _

She averted her eyes from his intense gaze and said, "You're welcome." He nodded and rotated his shoulder fully, working some of the tautness out of the muscle. Newly repaired muscle fibers were often stiff at first, as he knew from vast experience. "Um – do you need anything else? I should… I should probably get back to my studying."

Not wanting to push too far now, especially while she was still a student, he decided to leave it at that, nodding his agreement. She closed the door behind her when she left the room, and he stared at the paneled wood. 

A student. 

Not quite a student any longer, but also not quite graduated. Her NEWTs would be in just days, and then he could begin his manipulations in earnest. 

He sighed, standing from the stool and turning on the shower with a flick of his wand. His manipulations… he well knew his skills in that regard; he had honed them carefully over the years, with many willing and enthusiastic teachers. Not all of his knowledge from being a Death Eater was dark... or forbidden. Malfoy… he repressed a shudder as he stepped under the warm spray, allowing it to run over his head and down his neck. Severus had always preferred willing partners, whereas Malfoy… that man's barbarous desires could turn the stomach of even the most calloused Death Eater. 

Maybe even the Dark Lord himself.

He shook his head, then, pushing the images – the memories - from his mind. Thank goodness the girl had given up that ridiculous notion of accepting Malfoy's proposal. He still couldn't believe she had had the gall to suggest spying on the man… she would have been brutalized beyond her ability to comprehend. Her mind was far too valuable to lose to such atrocities. 

He sighed irritably, working his shoulder muscle. No, the Malfoys had no finesse. 

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Hermione sat at the corner desk, trying to keep her mind on the text in front of her and off of the man in the other room. Finally, she sighed and closed the textbook, throwing her quill to the desk in defeat.

Snape was a true enigma. As snarky and snarly as ever one moment, then teasing with her the next moment… then looking at her like some sort of puzzle he had to solve… when he looked at her with that strangely calculating gaze she had the uncomfortable feeling he was _planning something, but she didn't know what. And she wasn't likely to know, unless he decided to tell her, she realized with a sigh. She was intelligent and rather good at figuring things out, but Snape… well, he had been involved in spying and intrigue since before she was even born. _

_Since before she was even born._

It hit her, then, just what she was about to do... aside from the fact that he was – most of the time - a cold, calculating, unpleasant person – he was also twenty years her senior… twice her age. She shook her head in disbelief. Although the wizarding community looked on age differences in a much different way than Muggles – taking into account the longer life span of wizards and witches, a twenty year difference wasn't even worth mentioning – she was raised as a Muggle, and her initial reaction to most things was still Muggle. With a humorless laugh, she thought, _At least he's younger than my dad is… was…Oh, Gods. Again, she felt tears spring to her eyes and she angrily squeezed her lids shut, willing them away. _

Her mind frantically snatched hold of her previous thread of thought. So he was twenty years her senior… Dumbledore was over 150 years old, and he was still full of energy. He showed more agility than her uncle, who was only in his sixties. So, really, Snape was still a young man in wizarding circles. And certainly, she acknowledged with a speculative smile, his body was that of a younger man – barring the numerous scars on the pale skin. She wondered for a moment about them – some were obviously curse scars which hadn't been healed correctly, but others looked like ceremonial cuts of some sort… blood magic, maybe? She had done some reading in the Dark Arts texts that Viktor had sent her – not that she would admit that to Snape, after his warnings the previous evening. Snape. Professor Snape. When she had pulled his shirt off…__

She remembered how the warmth had drained from her face when she peeled his shirt away from the gash, breaking open the wound. Thick, dark blood had welled up, stark against pale skin… she shivered convulsively at the image still emblazoned in her mind. It had sparked her memory of the night in the Forbidden Forest with Harry… finding Ron… seeing him, as he lay there… the blood… there had been so much… _They will pay. I will make them pay. _

Her hands shook as she brought them to her face, pressing them to her eyes. Would she _ever_ rid herself of the memory? It seemed to seep to the top layer of her brain whenever she was silent, whenever she wasn't distracted by something else. And at night… the nights were the worst…

Except the night before, she admitted silently, letting her hands drop. What had been the difference? What had kept the dreams at bay? Was it… could it have been… Professor Snape's presence? The presence of someone else who understood, someone else who had been through what she had, someone else who had faced the same decision, been tempted by the very thing that she had been tempted by? 

_Each step seems but a small one. _His words echoed in her mind. Questions rose from it… when she had read those texts Viktor had sent… was that the first step? Each time she looked farther into the books, each time she committed a spell to memory, were those all individual steps? Or part of one, larger step, drawing her inexorably into the pit? Despite Snape's warnings, her fingers itched to delve back into the forbidding books… to pull out the tomes from the trunk she had stowed them in… to learn, to know her enemy… 

_They will pay. I will make them pay. _ 

Suddenly she stopped, a cold shot of fear going through her as she realized that she was unconsciously walking to where the trunk sat in the bedroom... it was as if she were being called… 

_Oh, Gods… what have I gotten into?_

Shaking, she sat on the edge of the bed, noticing that the cot that Snape – _Severus_ – had transfigured was still pushed up against the opposite side of the bed. She hoped, fervently, that he would stay there again… she needed sleep so badly… and, a small voice inside her admitted, she was frightened. _Hermione Granger, frightened of books – how Ron would laugh…_

She wasn't quite sure how long she sat there, but after a time she pulled herself together and changed into what her mother had called her "company pajamas." She smiled sadly at the thought. _I doubt this is the situation Mum had in mind when we bought them, she thought, looking down at the red and gold patterned silk set. At least it was reasonably modest – a short-sleeved top with matching bottoms. She normally slept in just her knickers and an oversized t-shirt, but she wasn't quite ready to parade around half-dressed in her Professor's – her __fiancé's - rooms. Although, if _he _wanted to… she certainly wouldn't object to that, she acknowledged with a wicked grin._

She heard the shower turn off and quickly returned to the study, curling up in one of the armchairs by the fire. She felt like she was forgetting something, but she couldn't think what- _Oh, that's right, she realized, jumping up and going to her bag, rummaging through the odds and ends before finally finding what she had been searching for. _

"Tea, Hermione?" a voice behind her asked, causing her to jump in surprise. 

"Oh, oh – yes, thank you," she said, turning around and coming face to face with her future husband. _Oh, my…She felt her cheeks getting red again as she took in his form – loose black trousers, of some sort of soft material, and an open dressing robe… also black…_

When she had worked on his shoulder, she had tried to keep her mind firmly on what she was doing, losing herself in the task… but now, with no distractions… Gods… tall, slender, defined… _You're worse than a teenage boy around a veela, Hermione, she admonished herself, struggling to bring her eyes back to his face. Maybe he hadn't noticed… _Too late, _she realized, seeing him suppress a smirk. _

_Oh, my._

"What is that?" he asked, indicating the object in her hand as he tied the dressing robe shut. She suppressed a sigh of disappointment at the act.__

"Just my pills, Professor um, Severus," she said. When she saw him raise one eyebrow in amusement, she admitted, "All right – seven years of habit _is_ hard to break."

"Indeed," he commented with a smirk. Moving to the small table in the middle of the room, he poured two cups of tea. "Perhaps you'll keep that in mind the next time I slip and call you Miss Granger."

She grinned, accepting the cup he handed her and settling herself into one of the armchairs. "Perhaps. But I think it's a do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do type of thing, Severus. You won't get off that easily."

"Hmm, likely," he murmured noncommittally, sitting across from her and taking a sip of his tea. "What are those… pills? Muggle medication of some sort?" he asked, sneering. For some reason, she was heartened by this more familiar demeanor of her Potions Master. Professor Snape without his sneers and snaps just wasn't… well, Professor Snape. She relaxed back in the chair and nodded.

"Birth control pills, actually, Severus," she said, popping one in her mouth and taking a sip of the tea to help her wash it down. 

"Ah." He looked slightly uncomfortable and gave her a questioning look before averting his eyes. 

Suddenly she realized his confusion and began to laugh. He scowled at her darkly until she was able to choke, "No, no – you think… I don't... I mean…" As his scowl deepened she controlled herself with an effort and told him, "They - they have to be taken every day, no matter if you… er… _need _them_ that particular day or not. The daily dose maintains a constant supply of hormones in a woman's body, preventing ovulation."  _

Snape's face cleared and he nodded. "I see. It seems a bit inconvenient – why don't you just use the potion?" The most common potion was only ingested once a month.

She looked at him strangely before answering. "Severus – have you even read through the Marriage Law?"

"The pertinent sections. I didn't quite have time to peruse it in detail, as it did not apply to me directly until recently. You realize that Dumbledore did not… inform… me of his back-up plan until after Mr. Weasley was found," he said. "I had assumed, prior to… well. Before I became suspicious of your intentions, I assumed you would be sent to Beauxbatons, as I told you this morning."

"What… what made you suspicious?" she asked, her eyes on her cup. She thought she had been careful… 

He put his cup down sharply on the table and she sat up straight, watching him worriedly. He stated flatly, "I am not willing to discuss that with you at this time." They stared at each other a moment in silence, the tension thick. Then, in a more moderate tone, he said, "Now – you were about to tell me of a clause I missed in this damnable Marriage Law?"

She swallowed hard. "Y-yes. The clause… no magical forms of birth control may be used – potions, charms – they can all be detected by their magical signatures. A long-term detection charm is included in the spells cast during the ceremony. I tested it, though, and the charm can't detect Muggle contraceptives. These pills just increase the amounts of natural hormones in a woman's body, nothing foreign is introduced. Mum… Mum thought of it, when the law was first proposed." She looked down at her hands. Her parents… they had been so supportive… _It's just a what-if, honey… I know you want to continue your schooling and with a baby… well, it's not impossible, but it's not easy. Even if the law doesn't go through, or if we move, it's not a bad idea… well, I'll go ahead and pick you up a big supply…_

"Your mother was a wise woman," Severus said in a gentle voice. She looked up at him, surprised at his tone… it was the same one he had used in his office the night before, when she had asked what was going to happen to her. _It will be well, Miss Granger. Hermione. It will be well. _

He was watching her neutrally. When she nodded and gave him a small smile, he sat back and stared into the fireplace. She watched with interest as his robe fell open slightly, exposing a few more inches of skin… including one clean scar line stretching diagonally over his breastbone. She had barely noticed it earlier, but now the flickering light and shadow created by the flames brought it into sharper definition. Without looking away from the fire, he asked, "Are there any other little… surprise charms… that will be cast during the ceremony?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "Well… a Fidelity charm, of course…" 

He nodded. "That makes sense, giving what they hope to achieve with this farce of a law."

She had spent a few minutes that afternoon looking over the law, and a flush rose to her cheeks as she contemplated the most significant charm – in her mind – that would be cast.  "And… well… there's a… a copulation charm… it's based on time…" Her voice trailed off.

Snape didn't move his eyes from the flames as he said in a dry voice, "I _was_ aware of that particular charm, Miss – Hermione." He glanced at her then, his eyes narrowed. "What is the interval requirement?" 

She averted her eyes for a moment, her throat suddenly dry. "Um… weekly. Well – it actually says three out of every four weeks… I guess to give time for…" She looked back at him and shrugged weakly. _I canNOT believe I'm discussing this with Professor Snape like it's some sort of…of… research project requirement…_

"Mmm. Yes," he drawled, his eyes glinting mischievously. "As I recall, some foolish men find that time… distasteful… for certain activities."

She didn't know why she asked the question, but it burst out of her before she could stop it. "You don't?" When he looked at her, eyebrow raised in inquiry, she stammered, "Find – find it distasteful, I mean."

He eyed her levelly for a moment before saying simply, "No." His lips twitched when her mouth fell open in surprise. Then he shook his head, a pensive look on his face. "Hermione – you are still very young. There will likely be many things that will surprise you about me. And vice-versa, of course."

"I… I guess you're right."

He watched her for a moment, black eyes thoughtful, before he drained his teacup. "Well, Hermione – it has been a rather… eventful day. I believe I will retire." 

They both stood. After a moment of indecision, she asked, "Um… Severus… are you – I mean, are the… the sleeping arrangements going to be the same tonight? As they were last night, I mean." 

He fixed her with a calculating gaze before nodding abruptly. "Yes. I believe it is the most… efficient… arrangement, for the time being. Until after our… marriage, of course."

"Good," she breathed, and he looked at her, startled. She flushed as she realized the implications. "I mean – I'm just glad you weren't planning on sleeping on the couch here, or something like that…"

"Hmm. I have heard of wives demanding that at times – rest assured, Hermione – I will _never _sleep on the couch," he said in a silky voice, his black eyes shining with suppressed amusement. 

She smiled at his statement. "That's not what I meant." In a more serious voice, she continued, "It was – well, last night was the first time… in a long while, really, that I slept."

"I understand, Hermione," Snape said. Again, that strangely calculating look. He held out his hand. "Come." She went. 

A short time later, she lay in the bed on her side, watching as he threw off the dressing robe and slid onto the cot. Her eyelids grew heavy even before he whispered, "_Nox._" 

She was asleep only moments when she felt herself whimpering as the dark images flooded her mind… the memories… "No… no, not Mum… Daddy…" Images broiled in her mind… the _Daily Prophet's _front-page story showing the Dark Mark over her parents' house… Ron, his body broken, bleeding, so much blood… _Hermione, don't look! No, don't look!_She shook her head, gasping as she partially woke, still disoriented, her heart pounding in her chest… 

…then a warmth… a hand resting on her shoulder… she grasped at it like a lifeline, pulling it to her, wrapping her fingers around it, holding it close… soft words came to her ears as she fell gratefully into the now calm, relaxing darkness, _"I'm here, Hermione… I'm here…"_

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

The next morning, Snape woke first. 

He lay for a time, studying the young woman who still had a death-grip on his hand. She had pulled it to her chest as she slept, and it rose and fell with each breath. He sighed, lost in thought. 

Despite Albus' words, he felt it too great a risk to delay the discussion they had to have concerning the true danger of the Dark Arts. If she had already begun to read any truly Dark tomes, she would be… compelled… to continue the study. And in her weakened emotional state, she may not find the strength to resist the urge – she could be pulled in rapidly. 

He sighed, gently extricating his hand from the sleeping woman. It was Sunday – neither of them had any commitments – it would be an ideal time to discuss the dangers. The specific dangers. First – he needed to discover if she had begun an "independent study" and, if so, how deeply she had explored the subject. If she had begun… he would have to guide her, as Albus had indicated. The knowledge would be a valuable thing for her to have, but she needed a mentor to tell her how far to go, to let her know when to stop, to warn her before the dangers grew too great. Before the Call took hold. 

Throwing back the bedcovers he slid out of the cot and, after a short trip to the bathroom to attend to personal matters, headed to the study to order breakfast from the kitchens. Shortly after he placed the order, he heard her stirring in the bedchamber. By the time the food arrived, she was making her way across the room to him, valiantly suppressing a yawn. He nodded a greeting and she sat, fuzzily reaching for a cup of tea. Sipping his own tea, he leaned back in the chair and watched her through hooded eyes, waiting for the right time.  

When she was relaxed and at ease, he struck. "So, tell me, Hermione… just how much of the Dark Arts have you already taught yourself?" he asked in a casual tone, pleased when he saw the empty teacup she had been holding fall from nerveless fingers and hit the floor.

The shattering of the porcelain was the only sound in the suddenly quiet room.

___________________________________________________________________

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please read and review – I'm really trying to keep Snape from getting nice – you don't know how many edits I had to do in this chapter when he seemed to be getting way too warm and fuzzy… hopefully I still have him believable enough. Anyhoo – please please review!!!

The Perfectly Imperfect – Thank you! I'm trying to make the plot unique – it's tough, with so many great stories out there, but I'm trying! And – you will have an interaction between Draco and Hermione – more than one, actually – just be patient ;)

Serpens Potio – Thank you! I know exactly what you mean about the Ravenclaw (acceptable) and Hufflepuff (eek!) Snapes out there… I love Slytherin Snape so much. There will be more Legilimency, never fear, and much more about the Call of the Blood throughout the story.

Jen – So glad you liked the Lucius/Severus "confrontation"… definitely a good evening for Snape. Thank you so much for your comments about my nonhysterical Hermione – I have read some fics, as you said, that have her as a radical raging crazy woman – I can see, with provocation, her getting angry (a la Book 4, post Yule Ball)… but not hysterically. 

Pseudonym – Thank you! I appreciate your comments re:the multi-dimensional characters – thanks!

BabyGidGurl – Patience, patience… heat will come ;)

Fleria – Oh, I'm glad someone liked my "giddy Snape".

Ildryo – Thank you – I'm trying to keep everything in character and plausible. And I really do think that's how the "real" Snape is handling the spy business with Voldie… but we'll see how Rowling writes it in Book 6 (hopefully!)

Lizzie – Hmm… I've been in line a while, myself… what number do you have? LOL

Subtilior – Thank you – I'm not commenting on your Call of the Blood comment… don't want to give much away ;). As requested, lean!&mean(sorta)!Snape, and as you can see I didn't use the wound dressing as a tension grabber… just as a time for him to muse over his plot concerning Hermione. I hope it wasn't too cliché…

Raclswt, Anarane Anwamane, Athena Linborn, Anna, KES, Jackie – Thank you all so much for the reviews!!!!!!!! 


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**  
WendyNat  
  
Chapter 7

~~~~~~~

Silence reigned in the room as Snape stared at her without speaking for long moments. His black eyes watched her fidget… those eyes, so knowing, so calculating… finally she couldn't stand it anymore and asked, "How did you know?" 

He sat back with a satisfied look on his face. "As I thought. Where are they?" When she didn't answer a frown creased his brow. "The books, Hermione. I'm assuming Krum sent you some… shall we say… _light_ reading material? There is no other source that you could have acquired them from… when I began here as a professor I combed the library thoroughly, removing those tomes detailing offensive Dark spells."

She looked down at her hands and noticed the remains of the teacup on the floor. Pulling out her wand with a shaking hand, she whispered, "_Reparo_." The shards reformed themselves and she leaned over to pick up the now-pristine cup. "Yes. Viktor sent me some books," she said simply.

"I see," he said casually, taking a sip of his tea. Any observer would assume, by his manner, that they were discussing some bland topic… like the weather. "Where are they? I need to know which texts you have been exposed to, Hermione."

"They're… they're in the trunk, in the bedroom. And…"

"Yes?"

She wasn't sure whether to respond at first… how would he react? Then, she remembered the feeling she had had yesterday when she realized that she was being… drawn… to the books. And those books were nothing like the one still hidden in her room… Swallowing hard, she raised her eyes to look at him. "There's… there's one more. It… there's something about it… I didn't even really want to touch it. He sent it just a couple of days ago, after the others. It's probably still in the place I hid it in, in the Head Girl's rooms."

"What book is it?" his voice was urgent as he put the teacup down, though his face was expressionless. 

"I'm not entirely sure… I opened it once, but I… I felt… something _wrong_… I shut it, then hid it away. I haven't taken it out since," she said, trembling slightly and averting her eyes from his intense gaze. "I think it's… more advanced than the other ones Viktor sent me. I don't know… it… I think it was written in blood." She flicked her eyes back to his face when she heard an almost inaudible gasp, but once again his expression was completely neutral, betraying none of his inner thoughts. "I… I thought, at any rate, I should read the… simpler texts… first, and leave the more um… detailed spells for when I met Viktor."

"A logical idea," Snape said, still staring at her with an unreadable look. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. "Sometime today you will need to show me the books. _All_ of them." She nodded mutely. "And now – I ask again. How far have you studied?"

"Not very far, I only read. I mean, I haven't practiced any of the spells or incantations… not even the wand movements. I didn't dare." She had been terrified at the prospect, to tell the truth. Whereas a mistake with simple charm could result in an impressive display of smoke, a mistake with one of the dark curses… she shuddered involuntarily at the thought. No, she hadn't wanted to risk it. It was one reason she had decided to seek out Viktor, to teach her… some things weren't safe to learn on your own, without a mentor.

_This path you wish to follow… it will not bring you what you seek._

"I see." He paused for a moment, watching her intently. Finally, he said, "Have you experienced any strange… side effects? Nausea? Illness?"

She was honestly confused at this, and shook her head. "No. Why-"

"You must tell me, if at any time you do," he demanded. She nodded uncertainly. "There is great danger here for you, Hermione."

"I know… I know what you told me the other evening. I haven't practiced anything, honestly. I've only read… that's got to be safe enough, or no one would be able to teach DADA, right?" He simply watched her silently, his black eyes growing darker, and she began to feel nervous. "Professor… Severus… what's wrong? I mean, Professor Lupin – for instance – he has to have studied the Dark Arts, at least read the spells, to teach the class. And he's not a Dark wizard. Right?"

He shook his head, smiling bitterly. "Unfortunately, in this your logic fails you, Hermione. Yes, Lupin studied it. For years, in fact, as any good Defense Against the Dark Arts Master would do. And he was never affected." He paused for a moment, then, staring at the flames dancing in the fireplace. 

Hermione was loath to interrupt his musing, but she pulled her courage around her and asked, "Why wasn't he affected?" 

Snape sighed and turned back to face her, his eyes tired. "Intent, Hermione. Intent." He picked up a fork from his empty plate and played with it idly, turning it in his long fingers. "You intended to use the spells… the Dark – it senses your intent. Lupin, on the other hand, did not intend to use the spells, only to learn their Defense."

Hermione's mouth fell open. "The Dark… is it… is it sentient? That doesn't make sense." It was insane, actually. But Severus was already shaking his head, causing a lock of limp black hair to fall across his cheek. He pushed it back absentmindedly before he answered her.

"No, not sentient… that's not quite the correct term. It has _will, _but little else. More will than basic magic does. It is more a… a manifestation of desire, anger, fear…" Seeing her confused look, he blew out an irritated breath. "Hermione, wizarding philosophers have argued over this for thousands of years. There are numerous volumes debating the nature of it, if you wish to explore them. I, myself, have never read a theory that I truly think covers the nature of the Dark. It is not sentient, true, but it has an energy, a _will…_ When I said it was seductive… the seduction is not all in your mind. There is an external force to contend with. Something in addition to the Call of the Blood which, in and of itself, is quite substantial enough."

"The what?" 

Black eyes stared at her keenly and she straightened her spine to return the gaze evenly. "It is the true danger of studying the Dark Arts. It is… rarely discussed. Very few people outside of the followers of the Dark are even aware of its existence. A… user… who has studied the Dark Arts in-depth, who has the intent of using the spells, who has read one of the books of the Blood-" at this, she gasped, and he watched her gravely, nodding slightly "-will eventually fall under the Call of the Blood."

She began to shake slightly, her face going cool as the blood drained from it. _The Call of the Blood_… was that what she had felt the day before, when the books called to her… when she unconsciously answered? But… those books weren't books of the Blood… the one in her room… _Oh, Gods… Viktor sent me a book of the Blood? That _was _blood that it was written in, then…What have I gotten myself into? _ 

"Hermione…" his voice sounded far away as she grappled with her fear. A little louder, "_Hermione." _Still, she just stared blankly at the table, her fists clenched in her lap. Finally, in the voice he reserved for lectures and grabbing the attention of misbehaving students, she heard him pronounce, "MISS GRANGER."

Seven years of habit caused her to respond immediately. "I'm… I'm sorry, Professor." 

"Do relax yourself. I do not believe the Call has taken hold of you, though you do well to fear it." Snape watched her seriously. "The reaction illness normally lasts almost a week before it fades… before it-" he stopped suddenly.

"Before it what, Severus?" she asked softly. 

Instead of answering her, he sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers, gazing at her over them with narrowed eyes. "The Call of the Blood, Hermione, is the true danger of the Dark Arts. As it is not in most people's natures to accept the Call, the body… the _soul_, if you will, attempts to reject it, to purge the body of the foulness. Thus, the illness sets in. Nausea, vomiting, completely uncontrollable with the standard magical remedies. There are a very few who are born with it as part of their nature – or, rather, I should say who are born with the _acceptance_ of it as part of their nature. Those few will not encounter the illness." He paused for a long moment then, studying her silently. 

She watched him eagerly, avidly curious – she would finally find out just _what _it was about the Dark Arts that was so dangerous… it had seemed so silly to her, the idea that she should avoid an entire section of magical theory – forbidden or not. 

"I can say for certain, Miss Granger, that it is _not _part of your nature. You would definitely have shown signs of the illness had the Call taken hold."

"So… the illness… is it too late, once it shows?"

Severus gave her an approving nod. "Excellent question. No - the illness is a warning sign. If you continue past the illness, continue to study, to learn, to go farther… the Call _will_ become a part of your nature. The illness is the signal that you are on the edge of the precipice, teetering… the signal to back away from the course of study you are pursuing, before it becomes part of you. Trust me, Miss Granger, you do _not_ want it to become part of your nature."

"Did you… did you get the illness?" she asked, a bit breathlessly.

"I did."

"Do you still get it?"

"No." 

"So… it became part of your nature, then," she said, lost in thought. She remembered what he had told her that pivotal night, in his office… how his father had forced him to study the Dark Arts. At such a young age… and then a memory of Sirius' voice came to her, _"Snape knew more curses when he arrived at school than half the kids in seventh year…"_

"Yes," he answered. 

"How… I mean, did you know, when you were young, what the illness was from?" she asked, looking at him. 

He averted his eyes from her gaze, standing and pacing as he answered. "No." He sighed, then, and turned to face her. "My parents passed it off as a normal childhood illness. And," he said, giving a humorless laugh, "For my family, I would have to say it IS a normal childhood illness. The Dark Arts were practiced throughout the bloodline. All male children were expected to succumb to the Call." 

"But… but you turned your back on it…" He nodded hesitantly. "How?"

He gave her a sharp glance before he answered. "I did turn my back on it, after a fashion. It is… difficult to control, still. It became a part of my nature, Hermione. That has not changed." He looked away again. 

"You feel it, even now, don't you?"

"Yes. But I am able to avoid answering it. On most occasions. When emotions run high, however…" He ran a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath. "It is… difficult to describe, Hermione. It is a… need, a desire… it compels you, demands that you _feed _it, giving almost nothing in return."

"_Almost_ nothing?" she asked pointedly. 

He looked at her with a faint smile. "I should be more careful of my wording around you. But, yes – almost nothing." He stopped speaking, then. 

She frowned. "Well, if you're going to force me to ask – what does it give you in return? There must be _some _sort of payment for… for services rendered," she said sarcastically. He shivered at that, and she was taken aback. _Professor Snape, shivering? Dear Merlin…_

_Every step seems but a small one._

"Have you ever wondered why the three – _Imperio, Crucio, and Avada Kedavra_ – why those three and not some of the other Dark curses were labeled as Unforgivable?" he asked. She frowned, wondering where he was going with this statement. Finally, she nodded. "The Call gives a… protection, of sorts… to the caster of the three."

"What do you mean?" she asked, curious.

"The casting of an Unforgivable against a person, without the proper protection, tears away a part of your soul, Hermione. The Call gives a person that protection. _That_ is why they were labeled Unforgivable while the blood boiling curse, for instance, was not."

She gasped. "But… but… Harry, he cast-" she stopped abruptly, coloring as Severus sneered at her. 

"Ever impetuous with your words. Don't worry yourself, Hermione, I already knew of Potter's attack on Bellatrix in the Department of Mysteries. She thought it quite amusing that the boy couldn't summon the will, the intent, to cast it correctly." He smirked for a moment before continuing, "But even so – to answer your unspoken question – yes, it _did_ cause an injury to Mr. Potter. The only reason the effects were not noticed was because of his… emotional response… to Black's demise."

She felt her face grow warm. How _dare_ he sneer about Harry's reaction to Sirius' death? Her fists clenched in anger as she spat, "Emotional response – of _course _he had an emotional response! Sirius was his last link to his parents, his last link to his father-"

"Do spare me your histrionics, Hermione. I have heard it all from Albus too many times to count," he said with a flick of his fingers. "The fact of the matter remains – if the boy had not been so foolish as to attempt an Unforgivable, an Unforgivable that quite literally tore a piece of him away, the death of Black would not have affected him as deeply as it did. For as long as it did," Snape said in a cool voice. 

Hermione's mouth snapped shut at that. Silently, she admitted that she had thought Harry's reaction to be a bit… overblown… especially so many months after his death. In the beginning, he had responded well within what she considered normal limits, but later… No one could even mention his godfather's name around him until close to the end of their sixth year – over a year after they had lost Sirius. All he would say was that it seemed as if a piece of himself were missing… she slumped back in her chair, overwhelmed. A piece _was _missing, and it wasn't just Sirius' presence. 

And when Ron died… just last week… Harry's reaction was so different. He wanted to talk about him, to reminisce about the good times they had, to cry healthy tears when the sadness overtook him… she had put it down to Harry being accustomed to the feeling of loss, to being older, more mature… but maybe it was as Severus said… it was the casting of the Unforgivable that made the difference. 

She sat in silence for a moment, digesting everything he had told her thus far. Something struck her as odd – like a piece of a puzzle that didn't fit quite right. "Shouldn't that have clued you all into Crouch, Jr.'s true identity? I mean, he didn't cast the Cruciatus curse or Avada Kedavra on a person, but he did cast Imperius on some students."

Severus smiled at her mockingly. "Surely such an intelligent, logical person such as yourself can figure that out, Hermione." 

His smirk grew as her look of confusion deepened. Finally, she said, "Moody… is… the Call is part of his nature?"

"Very good, Miss Granger. If you were still my student I'd give House Points to Gryffindor. Sadly, you are not," he said insincerely. She fought the urge to poke her tongue out at him. "Yes. Alastor Moody is one of the three people alive who has turned his back on the Call of the Blood. Well, one of the three that Dumbledore is aware of, that is. There may be more."

"So – you, Mr. Moody, and who else?"

"That is not of your concern, Hermione," he said in a curt voice. She nodded, not having expected an answer from him.

She remembered something else he had said about the Call. "So – when you said the Call has to be fed… what… is it fed by blood? I mean, Crucio doesn't really create blood…" She suppressed a shudder as she said the words.

He turned and resumed pacing the room. "Blood is not required, per se. The call is best answered by physical blood, true. However… it is also satisfied by other things – fear, pain… even the taking of innocence works."

She frowned. "The taking of innocence?"

He glanced at her before he resumed pacing. "Taking a virgin, Hermione. Among other things."

"Oh." She stared at him as he paced. "I didn't really bleed much with Ron," she mused, wincing when she realized that her thought had been spoken aloud.

He stopped pacing, not looking in her direction. In a strange voice, he said, "That… incident… it was your only time?"

She flushed nervously. "Yes." 

"Dear Merlin…" It was a whisper, and she wasn't entirely sure she had heard him correctly, so she said nothing. 

Finally, he sighed and turned. "Many things feed the Call. Anger, hate, instilling fear. The taking of an innocent, virgin or not, will feed it… it's the act of debauchery, you understand. The tarnishing of something… not necessarily something pure, but if you leave it less pure than you found it…" he stopped again and she frowned in confusion, not sure precisely what he meant. She didn't feel brave enough to ask him, however. 

He continued in a strange tone, "The Dark never truly leaves you… it is always a part of you…the Call can be resisted, but not at all times. Even those who turn their backs on it… we are still compelled, we still must find some way to satisfy it… to keep it dormant." 

"That's why you're like that to your classes," she said, her face clearing. It made so much sense, now that she thought of it. "Instilling fear, anger-"

He looked at her sharply. "I am _like_ _that_ because that is what I am, Hermione. I wouldn't claim that it's part of the Call."

"But – you said yourself the Call is part of your nature now… how do you know it isn't just a… a more innocuous way to satisfy it?" she said, her voice rising.

He didn't answer, simply turned back around to face the flames. She could see the anger etched in the lines of his body – he stood taut, every muscle tense. 

"It makes sense, Severus. You have to admit that," she insisted. He said nothing for a long while, his muscles remaining tense as he stood. She settled back to look at him, following the lines of his body with her eyes. _He really has a very nice form_, she acknowledged silently. Lithe, muscular without being bulky…

She started when he said in a sneering voice, "Enjoying the view, Miss Granger?"

She flushed scarlet, her breath catching with indignation. However, recalling his comment about her speaking impetuously, she bit her tongue for a minute before formulating her response. _Think, Hermione… why did he say it? He does nothing without reason…_Suddenly, the realization hit her. 

He was trying to distract her!

He wanted her off-balance; he wanted to regain the upper hand. Her observation about the Call was correct, then - or at least closer to the truth than he was comfortable with. He was trying to anger her, to draw her away from an uncomfortable subject. _Well, Professor, time for you to be off-balance for once. _

He turned to look at her mockingly, obviously viewing her silence as an admission of defeat, and was visibly startled when she grinned at him wickedly. "Why, yes, Professor Snape. I am, at that." 

He tensed and stared at her wordlessly, and she felt a surge of glowing excitement at the minor victory. The smile on her face grew. "Now, Severus – we are on a first name basis now, I hope you recall – before you _attempted_ to change the subject by embarrassing me, I was awaiting a response from you." She waited for the sneering comment that would once again put her on the defensive. She had no hope that he would allow her this victory… but in the meantime, it was sweet while it lasted.

She jumped, startled, when he began to laugh. Not a mocking, cold, sneering laugh… but a deep, rich, full laugh… it was a truly beautiful sound. She looked at him in wonder as it made his face transform. Still chuckling, he made his way back to the chair opposite from her, giving her a little bow before sitting. 

"My apologies, Hermione. You are, of course, correct about my attempt at a change in subject. Very well, then." He sat back and stared at her, a calculating look in his eyes. "You did come close to the truth, I believe. It is difficult to say, of course – the Call has been part of my nature for many years, since I was a young child. And, since I am being honest with you, I may as well tell you the entire truth, lest you begin to think of me as some romantic, misunderstood hero-type figure-" she laughed at this and he gave her an answering smirk "–I quite enjoy terrifying the weak-willed students and sniveling brats that roam these halls. So, if my being _like that _does assist in keeping the Call dormant, then it achieves two aims – satisfying the Call, and satisfying my own need for entertainment."

She smiled at him, amazed at his openness, and his honesty. His eyes were still shining with amusement, and she found herself getting lost in them… pure black, with no indication of where the iris ended and the pupil began. She wondered, then, just what his ancestry was – she assumed from his nose that he must have Italian roots, but perhaps some Spanish, also. His seal had given her no clues. When she sat at his desk the day before, she had inspected the wax seal – it was a wyvern wrapped around a dagger with an intricate circular design bordering the symbol. She had thought at the time that it must be a family seal. Abruptly, her musing was interrupted by a crackling noise. 

"Severus? I apologize for disturbing you, but I have a request for Miss Granger," Albus Dumbledore's voice came from the fire. 

She looked at Severus questioningly before turning and addressing the Headmaster. "Yes, sir?" she said, moving to the fireplace. 

"Ah, Miss Granger – I hope you had a restful night. I spoke with Mr. Potter this morning regarding your… situation… and, as I'm sure you understand, he has some concerns about your safety." She muttered a curse under her breath, which Dumbledore graciously pretended not to hear. "He would like to speak with you, if it's convenient."

"Um – well, I just need to get dressed… where should-"

"Meet him in the Head Girl's room. Ascertain it is Mr. Potter at the door before you open it, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, interrupting her. She frowned. "Miss Granger – this is for your protection. I would have preferred to send Mr. Potter down to the dungeons to speak with you-" at this, a loud snort came from Snape's location "-but I'm sure you can guess why I did not," the Headmaster finished, his eyes twinkling. 

Hermione smiled and nodded. "I'll be right there, Headmaster. Harry's seen me in my robe before, and if I'm just popping through the floo…" her voice trailed off. 

Dumbledore nodded, smiling. "Yes, my dear – that should be fine. You can expect Mr. Potter to arrive… oh, about any time now," he said, quickly bidding them both a good day before his head disappeared. Hermione turned back to Severus. 

"Well, go, then, Hermione. Mustn't keep Potter waiting," he said, sneering. She frowned in response.

"I was just going to ask if I should bring the book back with me," she said, proud when her voice didn't tremble. He went still, sitting up in the chair as he regarded her. Slowly, he shook his head.

"No. It is better if you do not handle it any more. When you are done with Potter, I will return with you to retrieve the book. If it is as you described…" he paused for a moment before finishing in an absent voice, "we have much left to discuss, Miss Granger."

She nodded and, grabbing a handful of floo powder from the mantle, floo'ed to the Head Girl's rooms.

When she stepped out of the fireplace, dusting herself off, she could already hear Harry pounding on the door. With another muttered curse, she strode to the door and, remembering Dumbledore's warning, cast a revealing charm. _Yes, definitely Harry_, she thought, smiling at the look on the green-eyed boy's face before opening the door and ushering him in.

"Hermione… oh, Merlin… I'm so sorry," Harry said, instantly grabbing her and holding her close. "This is my fault…"

She tightened her arms around him before pulling back. "Harry… how precisely is this your fault?"

He looked at her with haunted eyes for a moment before saying, "If you weren't friends with me, none of this would have happened. Your parents, Ron… Snape." 

"Don't be an idiot, Harry," she declared, motioning him to sit in one of the armchairs next to the fire. She seated herself in the other and stared at him. "First of all, my parents would have… would have been killed, either way. Lucius wanted them dead for opposing the Marriage Law. It had nothing to do with you. And Ron…" her voice failed her then, and she had to pause a moment before continuing in a small voice, "Ron… Ron was my fault. What happened was my fault. I should have known what would happen…"

_They will pay. I will make them pay._

Harry was shaking his head. "No, Hermione. Who could have guessed that… _that _would happen? He…" Harry was also finding it difficult to speak, and she waited patiently, tears in her eyes, as he regained his composure. "He asked me to go with him, to Hogsmeade… but I didn't… I can't even remember why, now. I was memorizing Quidditch plays, or something stupid like that… if I had just gone with him… but I thought he ought to pick out your ring himself-" Harry stopped suddenly, not meeting her gaze. She felt as if a knife had been shoved through her heart. 

"A ring? He… that's why he went into Hogsmeade? Alone?" Tears welled up in her eyes and she blinked them back furiously, shaking her head. "I told him not to… I didn't want…"

"I know, 'Mione, I know," Harry said, standing and moving beside her chair, leaning down and putting his arms around her. "This is all so crazy. And now, you've got to marry Snape. Damn it, Hermione… when did this all go so wrong? Didn't we just sit in the Sorting Ceremony? Didn't we just brew illegal Polyjuice; didn't we just defend a werewolf and his friend in the Shrieking Shack? When did it change? When did it all stop being a game? When did the thing I was most worried about change from having detention to having my friends get murdered? When did it become _this_?" Hermione had turned and wrapped her arms around Harry tightly, both of their shoulders shook as they let loose their tears. 

"I don't know, Harry. I don't know." Hermione said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "Maybe… I think it was when Voldemort returned. Or when Pettigrew returned. Or… or when Lucius Malfoy was let out of prison because he pretended to be a spy for the Ministry."

Harry pulled away from her embrace at that, a bitter look on his face. "And because we had to protect _Snape _at all costs, Dumbledore couldn't fight it."

Hermione frowned. "Harry… Sev- Snape does so much for the Order, for the side of the Light… you don't even realize just what he does…" Harry just shook his head, turning his face away from her. "Harry, he doesn't want to do this any more than I do. But he's willing to do it, to protect me. When has he done anything other than protect us?"

"How about when he insulted your teeth?" He still didn't look at her.

She stared at him blankly, wiping her cheeks. His shoulders were set, his jaw firm in an expression she knew all too well. Sighing, she said, "Harry, do you really think any of that matters, now? He's put his life on the line, time and again, to protect people he doesn't even like. Including _you. _Surely that says something about him?"

"Yeah. It says he has a lot to atone for," Harry said coldly before turning to look at her. "Hermione, listen – I appreciate what he's doing for you. But… I just can't help but feel that there's just as much in it for him, if you know what I mean. I just… I just can't see him doing it from the kindness of his own heart." His mouth twisted when he said the final words.

Defeated, she shook her head and collapsed into the chair bonelessly. "Does it matter? As long as the end result is the same – does it even matter?"

"I don't know."

They remained silent for a time, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Harry spoke again. "I just… I just wish it could be me, instead. I wish I could be the one to do this, to protect you. You're my last… my last real family, Hermione. You're like my sister, and it's… it's hard to trust you to my most hated Professor. That's all. I know he's trustworthy, and he'll protect you… but…" he stopped a moment, trying to find the right words. Hermione looked at him sadly. "I want you to be happy, too – not just safe. As happy as you can be with the way everything is right now."

Hermione got up from the chair and walked over to where he stood, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Harry, I think… I think I will be. It'll be all right. He's… he's not as bad as you think, really."

"Right."

She insisted, "No, Harry, I mean it. It's been… rather pleasant, really. He's trying, he really is."

Harry looked at her. "Hermione, you do realize that you have to sleep with him, don't you?" 

She couldn't keep a flush from coming to her cheeks, and she averted her eyes from his green gaze. "I know that, Harry. I… I don't think it'll be a problem," she said, her cheeks blazing red. 

"Not be a problem? This is _Snape _we're talking about, 'Mione!" 

Her cheeks continued to grow redder and a nervous smile came to her lips. "I know." 

Harry looked at her incredulously for a moment before bursting out, "You – you… Oh, Gods… I don't believe it. You're _attracted _to him?" She shrugged, and his eyes widened. "Are you completely mental?" 

She shrugged again, avoiding his eyes. "I don't know, Harry. I never really thought of him like that before, but… I mean, he's not handsome, but there's something about him… he's… well, he's _sexy_." Harry made a gagging noise, staring at her as if she'd grown a third head. "Well, he is!" she said defensively. "You remember when Lavender and Parvati were talking about the way he moves-" Harry let out another choking sound "-and without his robes – they're right. He's got a very nice body."

"WHAT?" Harry yelled. "What do you mean, without his robes? What's he doing to you?"

Hermione held her hands up, laughing. "Calm down, Harry. He's not doing anything! He doesn't wear his full robes around his own chambers, any more than you're wearing your school robes right now. He's been wearing a shirt and trousers." Harry visibly relaxed at that. She decided not to mention just how good he looked with the shirt _off. _"And what would it matter, either way? We'll be married soon enough. I may as well get used to it, right?"

"I wish there were some other option, Hermione," Harry said with a sigh, looking away from her. "I wish that damned law had never been passed!" His head drooped as he said, "I wish Ron was still alive." 

"Me, too, Harry. Me, too."

_____________________________________________________

A/N: There was more that I wanted to fit into this chapter, but Snape and Hermione decided to have a longer discussion than I originally expected. More about the book of the Blood in the next chapter. As Scars is now winding down (only one more chapter to go!) the updates for this fic should be quicker after next week's update. Please read and review!! Especially review!!

Crookshanks Girl – Thanks! I'm glad you think he's sexy… just wait ;)

BabyGidGurl – Hehe! You've got a bit longer to wait…

Sweetbabe – Definitely not a conversation she wanted first thing in the morning – either conversation, actually!

The Perfectly Imperfect – Thank you – I'm trying to keep him close to the books. Of course I'll have to stray a bit at certain times, since we only see him from limited third person Harry POV in the books… and what does Harry know, anyway? ;) 

Serpens Potio – Thanks for reviewing again! I hope you liked Hermione's reaction in this chapter, and Severus… 

Tasya – Thank you! I'm flattered at your praise… I have some (I think) interesting plot points ready for future chapters, so I hope to keep it interesting and unexpected.

Athena Linborn – That's exactly the feeling I was going for – envy and pity, at the same time ;). I'm going to have fun exploring Snape's different levels of reaction with different people, thanks!

Raclswt – The wedding will be in a couple of chapters… patience! ;)

Imhilien – One of my favorite authors! Thank you for reviewing, and I'm glad you think he's in character.

Ezmerelda – Thank you for the review. I am trying my best to make it original and unique – both from the other challenge responses and my other fics. Getting the Hermione character balance is difficult – she's, like my Snape noted, at once mature and immature. More of that will come out as the story progresses (if I do it right, at least ;) ). Great analysis of my Snape, by the way… you've hit the nail on the head.

Ivana Tinkle – Yes, he is a meanie! Exactly what I'm going for… mean Snape but still envious of Hermione…

Evilution – Thanks! I'm glad you liked the Grawp line, and the Drooble's Best Blowing Gum password – I live for the details!

Liza Klein, KES, McWitch, Anarane Anwamane, Denise Ruth, Pseudonym, Refuz2luz, Jinxd n Cursed, Fleria, The great and Masterfu Yoda, Anna – Thanks for reviewing!!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**  
WendyNat  
  
Chapter 8

~~~~~~~

Hermione stood alone in the Head Girl's rooms, staring at the fireplace silently. It had been at once a relief and a strain to talk to Harry. On the one hand, he was her friend, and knew all too personally what she had lost. On the other hand, she had been constantly on edge, wondering if Dumbledore had told him about her intention to study the Dark Arts. And then, once she had ascertained Harry's ignorance of the subject, she had had to concentrate to be sure not to inadvertently spill the news herself. 

From what Harry said, Dumbledore had told him - not untruthfully - that Snape had stopped her from leaving Friday evening for her protection. The Headmaster had cleverly insinuated that they had reports concerning a Death Eater or Death Eaters that could be on the lookout for her, and they felt it best that she remain at Hogwarts… safely ensconced in Professor Snape's chambers. With the added threat of the Malfoys, it was obvious that the Head Girl's rooms were not secure enough, and Harry had been able to come up with no better option.  

When she returned to Severus' chambers, he was seated at the corner desk, apparently marking papers. She stifled a grin as his quill scratched sharply across one unfortunate student's essay – she could only imagine what scathing remark he must be writing. "First years?" she asked. 

"Third," he said without looking up. She nodded and, not wanting to disturb him further, disappeared into the bedroom to change and get ready for the day. A short time later, she re-emerged into the study to see him sitting back, the bridge of his nose pinched between a thumb and forefinger. She smiled when he muttered, "It is truly amazing that they can even remember to _breathe_ with the limited mental capacity they display in my class."

"What House?" she couldn't resist asking. When he just gave her a dark look and stood, she firmly repressed a giggle. _Slytherin, apparently. Otherwise he'd have been only too happy to tell me._

"I trust your meeting with Potter was… constructive?"

"You could say that, I suppose," Hermione answered.  

Snape sneered. "Were you able to convince the Savior of the Wizarding World that I didn't chain you in the dungeons and torture you?" Rather than get irritated by his comment, she smiled faintly. 

"Well, I don't know if he's quite convinced yet, but I tried." As he stepped closer to her the glint in his eye betrayed his amusement, and she allowed her smile to grow. "You do have quite a nasty reputation, you know."

"I am aware of that. I've cultivated it carefully over the years," he said, one black eyebrow raised sardonically.

"Hmm. Well, you've been successful," she said. She looked at him silently for a moment before adding, "Severus, in all seriousness… Harry is my friend. And he will continue to be my friend. It's natural for him to want to look out for me."

Severus nodded, his lips once again twisting into a sneer. "That, also, I am aware of, Hermione. Now, I believe we need to return to the Head Girl's rooms to retrieve the lovely text that _another _'friend' of yours sent?" Hermione's cheeks colored at his words and he smirked at her, raising an eyebrow. She frowned, irritated with herself – first for flushing at his comment, and then for noticing how… _sexy _that smirk was. 

"Come on, then," she said sullenly, grabbing some floo powder from the mantle. As she stepped into the green flames, she could hear his deep chuckle behind her.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

A true Book of the Blood, he mused. Not incredibly old… perhaps scribed by Viktor Krum himself? Snape shook his head, lip curling in disgust as he inspected the pages. He looked up when Hermione sat down across the desk from him, her movements tentative as she eyed the book with undisguised fear.

And for good reason.

He recalled clearly his own surprise when he stepped through the fireplace into the Head Girl's rooms and _felt _its presence. He knew immediately that it wasn't a simple copy that they were dealing with. 

A regular copy would have been bad enough, but this book was made and bound using the ancient techniques; Dark preservation spells were woven through the ink and binding to keep the blood fresh on the page, the wet words glistening like damp rubies in the firelight. Most copies were made without the additional Dark spells; the texts were still functional as long as the mixed blood of the scribe and a victim was used in the ink preparation, but they were not as powerful. 

The Dark preservation spells… the spells themselves were such a drain on a wizard's power that they were rarely used. This was a very valuable book, indeed. And potent – the Call literally spoke from the pages… he could hear its siren voice, beckoning to him, and he ruthlessly tamped down the answering stir in his own blood. For Krum to have sent a volume of this rarity to Miss Granger, to Hermione, was disquieting. _Why?_

"What is it, Severus?" Hermione was chewing on her lower lip, and he frowned when he recognized how _young _it made her appear. 

"Must you do that?" he snapped, instantly irritated when she jumped. _So much for the vaunted Gryffindor courage,_ he thought derisively before he shook his head. It wasn't the girl's fault that he was so unsettled, and lashing out at her certainly wouldn't further his own plans. With a sigh, he looked up and met her eyes. "I… apologize, Hermione." 

He made a concerted effort to keep his tone sincere, though it was difficult. He was not used to… apologizing… to anyone, much less a student. But he would do what he must. When he saw her nod of acknowledgement, he continued, "This volume is very… unusual, we shall say. I was merely wondering _why_ Krum would have sent it to you." He explained the differences in the Books of the Blood, and was satisfied that she understood the gravity when her face paled further. 

"So… he sent me one of the most potent Books of the Blood available. And that's… that's why it looks like fresh blood? Like it's still… liquid?" He nodded curtly. "I wonder… he knows me fairly well, so maybe he thought I would back out. Maybe… maybe he wanted to be sure the Call took me quickly, before I got cold feet."

Snape absently fingered the edge of a page, considering. Finally, he nodded and his brow smoothed. "A likely assumption. Logical, on his part. You were very fortunate to have felt the… wrongness… immediately."

Hermione didn't respond, still staring at the book with unseeing eyes. Finally, she stammered, "D-do you think he… Viktor… was the um, the scribe?" 

He glanced at her sharply and noted the disconcerted look on her face. Understandable, given what he'd just told her concerning what went into the creation of a Book of the Blood. A sacrificial victim – human, of course - to supply the majority of the blood, a certain amount of the scribe's own blood, and a potion created using the Dark Arts to add to the mixture to ensure the "ink" would not decompose over time.

In a neutral voice, he said, "Has it finally occurred to you just what it means, that your friend is a Death Eater? That he is the only son of a long line of Dark Arts practitioners?" Sitting forward in the chair, he fixed his eyes on hers. "Do you see, now, the danger?" 

In normal initiations into the Dark Arts, the trainer begins slowly – each new spell taught just a little less innocuous then the previous. The goal was to ease the trainee with small steps, careful not to go too far too fast, careful not to shock them to the point of horror. Each step, each new spell or potion or ritual taught, brought the learner inexorably closer to the edge… where the Call could take hold and ensure surrender. Most initiates did not learn from a Book of the Blood until the other, less Dark, tomes had been studied. And, until the Call of the Blood became a part of the learner's nature, the method of creating a Book of the Blood was a closely guarded secret. 

She had averted her eyes, and was staring blankly at the book on the desk in front of him. He waited patiently, allowing her to absorb what he had said. Finally, she spoke. "What does that mean? _Payment offered, Blood accepted. _Is it some sort of-" She jumped when he slammed the book shut, his brows furrowed in anger. She watched him nervously. "I'm… I'm sorry, I just…"

In a carefully controlled voice, he said, "Think nothing of it, Miss Granger. I should have known–" he stopped then, watching her closely. Her brown eyes were clear, if still a bit anxious. He nodded to himself thoughtfully and said, "My anger was directed at myself, not you, Hermione." Standing, he hefted the tome, still feeling the Call through its binding though the effects were somewhat muted with the book closed. "I must properly store this – I will return in a few moments." She nodded uncertainly and he could feel her eyes follow him as he made his way into the small office attached to the study. 

Closing the door behind him, he carefully cast a silencing charm and a masking charm… it would not do for Miss Granger to have knowledge of the warding system he would erect around the book. The lure, the temptation, may very well be too much for her to resist, particularly with her emotions still raw from her recent losses. 

It took him only moments to secure the book, in the same hidden cabinet as the other dangerous Dark Arts books that he had in his possession. Once properly warded, he could no longer feel the Call and he nodded in satisfaction. He didn't think Hermione would be able to break the wards he had constructed; indeed, those wards bordered on the Dark Arts, and the only book located within the castle which detailed their use was itself secured in the cabinet. It was one of the few useful things he had learned from his father.

He sighed and opened the door leading to the study, not surprised to see that Hermione hadn't moved from the chair and was still sitting, staring blankly ahead. Apparently lost in thought. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, considering her for a moment.

It was not often that someone, particularly a student, surprised him. But her cheeky rebuttal earlier that morning, when he had tried to throw her off-balance with his comment, had done just that. _Why, yes, Professor Snape. I am, at that. _He smiled again, thinking about it. There was obviously more to her than met the eye, he thought, remembering her very astute observation concerning his classroom demeanor and the Call of the Blood. 

_Very wise for one so young_, he reflected silently. It had taken him years to consider the possibility that the menacing presence he had cultivated for his classes was actually a subconscious method of satisfying the Call. Was it because he was too close to the situation, or was Hermione just exceptionally perceptive? He frowned a moment, pondering. In certain things, she definitely showed an amazing perception… though in others… no. If she were perceptive in all things, then her little friend would not now be dead. 

He shook his head slightly. Seven years in his classroom, and he had never realized the extent of her brilliance. It wasn't just book intelligence – she truly saw intricacies, depths… an amazingly insightful mind. A line appeared between his brows as he frowned at the thought. The young woman was almost too insightful – he was right to take his seduction of her emotions slowly… luckily for him, she still had the relative naivety of youth. He shuddered to think of what she would become in ten years time, in twenty years time… he doubted any man would be able to manipulate her, then. The thought made him pause. 

How long-term would this marriage be? If the law wasn't withdrawn… he frowned. But surely it would be, once the Dark Lord was defeated. Yes, once the Dark Lord fell, the protection aspect of the law – which had so appealed to those Muggle parents after the Grangers' murder - would no longer be applicable. The parents would doubtless rise against the law once again and… she would be free to leave him. To find someone young, foolish. Someone undeserving of her.

And, as he stood there, watching her, he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Later that evening, Hermione sat in one of the large armchairs, ostensibly studying for her NEWTs. In truth, she was focused on the dark man sitting at the corner desk, once again marking papers. 

The Dark never truly leaves you… it is always a part of you…the Call can be resisted, but not at all times… 

She had seen his face when they entered the Head Girl's rooms – he had sensed the book before she had even brought it out of its hiding place. And then, when he had spoken of how potent the book was… she had had the strangest feeling that he was sensing the Call. Sensing the Call as he sat there, right in front of her. She shivered slightly in remembrance. And then - his reaction when she had read a bit of the text… Inconceivably, he had apologized to her – after a fashion – for getting angry. _My anger was directed at myself, not you, Hermione. _A most un-Snapelike response.

She watched him from beneath lowered lashes, carefully keeping her head turned towards her book. He was wearing a simple black shirt, the sleeves rolled up. She watched surreptitiously as he raised his left hand, pushing a lock of limp hair back behind his ear, exposing the Dark Mark on the inside of his forearm. The evening before it had burned black; but, as he wasn't being called, it currently resembled a brilliant red tattoo. A brilliant, blood red tattoo. 

_Like the ink in Viktor's Book of the Blood_, she thought. She was still dreadfully curious about the passage she had read. _Payment offered, Blood accepted. _What did it mean? She had tried to decipher the rest of the page, but it was too difficult to read upside down. And then, Snape had slammed the book shut without answering her question. She wondered, again, why that one phrase had popped out at her so sharply. Perhaps later, after he was finished marking the essays, she could ask again…

With a sigh, she looked back at the text in front of her. It was so much to digest… the Call of the Blood. Snape, turning his back on it… controlling it… constantly tempted by it…

_I am able to avoid answering it. On most occasions. When emotions run high, however…_

When emotions run high… he was usually so calm, his voice dangerously soft even when reprimanding students. She could count on one hand the number of occasions that she had seen Snape lose his iron control over his emotions. She gasped suddenly, sneaking a glance at Snape to be sure he hadn't heard. The Shrieking Shack… of course. The Call of the Blood… his old nemesis Sirius Black, a convicted murderer, she had seen how badly he had wanted to kill the man. _"Give me a reason. Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will." _Snape had been fighting the Call… no wonder he had come so unhinged when Sirius escaped… the Call left unanswered, the prisoner missing… nothing to show for his restraint. _When emotions run high_…

She snuck another glance at him. She remembered how he had looked that night… the mad glint in his eyes… seemingly beyond reason… it made so much sense, now. Although, unlike her observation concerning his classroom demeanor, she rather doubted that she would mention her newfound realization to him. She didn't fancy reminding him of her own role in that evening's events. 

"Is there some purpose behind this near-constant scrutiny, Miss Granger?" Snape said, looking up from the essay he was grading. _Damn, how does the man _do _that? _she wondered irritably. He smirked at her, as if hearing her unspoken thought. Letting out an annoyed breath, she frowned. 

"How do you do that?"

He lifted one eyebrow, the smirk never leaving his face. "I am a spy, Hermione. It is… in the job description, you might say." Sighing he put down his quill and sat back, regarding her silently for a moment. "Ask the question, Hermione."

She froze, unsure what he was referring to. Finally, she asked, "Which one?" 

She was rewarded by a soft chuckle. He shook his head and stood, moving to sit in the chair opposite hers. She watched as he walked, admiring his lithe body, the way he seemed to flow across the room… she had thought, prior to this weekend, that the effect was entirely due to his voluminous robes. But Lavender and Parvati had been correct… it was simply the way the man moved. Elegant and fluid… a grace of movement that did not at all diminish his commanding presence…

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she realized she had been staring. She felt her cheeks redden, but she refused to look away. Instead, she met his eyes and said again, "Which question?" 

He smiled faintly and said, "I am certain there are several questions you are just _bursting _to ask me, but the one which I am referring to is the one you asked this morning. Concerning what you saw in the Book of the Blood."

She gazed at him expectantly. "Well? What did it mean? _Payment offered, Blood accepted. _Is it a ritual of some sort?"

"Yes." 

She sat silently for a moment before she realized that he meant to say nothing more. She pursed her lips together in annoyance and said, "Don't you get tired of this game?"

"No." His eyes glinted in amusement and she sighed again.

"You're impossible, you know that? Never mind, don't answer," she said, not able to hold back a smile. _He really could be rather charming… Gods, I can't wait to tell Harry that… I can imagine the sounds he'll make then! _"All right – what sort of ritual is it?"

He sat forward then, his face suddenly serious as he regarded her. "It is a blood ritual – a means of ending a… confrontation… between two followers of the Blood." He paused for a moment, studying his hands. He continued without raising his eyes. "The… defeated party is required to offer a payment to the victor. Of course, in a blood ritual, the payment offered is blood. The Call demands it. Thus – Blood accepted as payment. _Payment offered, Blood accepted._ It is an ancient tradition… the words serve as an incantation of sorts, satisfying the Call." He raised his head then, his black eyes boring into hers. "The payment must be fulfilled, when the words are spoken."

"The payment… blood… I guess that's usually-"

"Death, yes. It's the only thing that will truly satisfy the Call… it will compel the victor to take the other's life. When that occurs, it is referred to as the Blood Rites. That was the particular ritual you had the misfortune to read about earlier today. It is…" he stopped for a moment before continuing in a carefully neutral voice, "It is difficult, to resist it. Extremely difficult. It is possible to… simply draw the blood of the other, instead – without taking the man's life. But it takes a great deal of will."

"You… have you…" her voice trailed off. Of course he had… he had told her that night in his office. His father… _a… confrontation… between two followers of the Blood_. 

_Each step seems but a small one._

He sat back thoughtfully. "I see you answered your own question. But I will elaborate, to satisfy your overly developed sense of curiosity. Yes, I performed the Blood Rites on my father. And I still bear the scar from those Rites." Her eyes flicked to his chest, remembering the long thin scar across his breastbone. "Yes – I was aware of your scrutiny yesterday evening."

"The other…" She swallowed, unsure of whether or not to continue. Then she decided to take advantage of his unexpected talkativeness. "There are other scars you have, that I saw last night. Some of them were from curses, I could tell, but others…"

He stared at her silently for a moment before saying flatly, "There are many blood rituals. Many blood magics. I do not intend to discuss them all with you this evening, Miss Granger." 

They sat quietly until he finally said, "The hour is growing late, Hermione, and I have an early morning class tomorrow."

She nodded. "I think I'll stay up a bit longer, and read…" He gave her a penetrating look before standing and walking into the bedroom. She stared after him thoughtfully. Her fiancé. Her… guide… through the Dark Arts. A very complicated man… 

Shaking her head, she applied herself once again to her Transfiguration textbook. Transfiguration… in the back of her mind, she had been contemplating what field to apprentice in after her NEWTs. She was interested in all of them, which made it difficult to decide. She had already ruled out Potions: there were few more unequal partnerships than that of Master and Apprentice. And the entire point of all this studying was to avoid that inequality with the man she would be marrying. So – Potions was out.

Charms… she was intrigued by Charms, and still remembered the thrill when she had been the first in the class to successfully make her feather float into the air. Arithmancy, while interesting, didn't hold the same thrall for her. Astronomy was too… Muggle, for lack of a better term. And then Transfiguration… that was an exciting field. And challenging. Not to mention, she was very comfortable working with Professor McGonagall. 

All of a sudden, something else occurred to her. This entire mad situation… wouldn't it be better to apprentice herself to an Order member? She would have less to worry about as far as verbal slips went, and without a doubt McGonagall had already been informed of the situation between her and Severus. She relaxed, some of the tension leaving her, as she realized her decision was made. She would request a meeting with Professor McGonagall as soon as possible to apply for an apprenticeship.

Smiling, she closed her book and placed it on the table. Professor Snape was right – it was late. And sleep beckoned.

The bedroom was almost completely dark when she entered, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. One candle was lit on a far wall, and she stifled a giggle when her mind compared it to a Muggle nightlight. By the even breathing coming from the cot, she surmised that Professor Snape was already asleep. She crept silently to the bathroom and considerately cast a silencing charm before turning on the sink and brushing her teeth. 

As she slid beneath the covers, mentally congratulating herself for not awakening him, she was startled by his silky voice. "I thought you were going to study further, Hermione." She looked in his direction, seeing only a dark shadow where his body lay. She had extinguished the candle before climbing onto the bed. 

"I decided to follow your advice. It is getting late… and… well, this whole sleep thing is still a novelty to me right now, I suppose," she said a trifle sadly, turning on her side to face him in the darkness. 

He made a noncommittal noise and, to her mild surprise, reached out to touch the hand that was closest to him. The darkness giving her courage, she grasped his hand, twining her fingers in his. His palm was warm and smooth, the fingers slender with a smattering of calluses at the tips. She relaxed as his thumb slowly rubbed the side of her hand, and her eyes slid shut. "Thank you," she whispered. 

"Sleep, Hermione."

~*~*~*~*

_It was a dream, and Hermione knew it was a dream. Even in her dream state, she was elated… it had been so long since she had had a _normal _dream…_

_She and Ron were sitting outside by the lake, watching the Great Squid as it swam by under the dark water, causing ripples to run along the surface. The sun glinted off the tiny waves, making the water sparkle. _

_"I miss you, 'Mione. I hope Snape is treating you right."_

_"I know you never liked him, Ron, but he's trying. Truly, he is," Hermione said, looking at the red-haired man beseechingly. "And he can protect me… I don't have to worry about anything happening like what happened to you."_

_"I understand, Hermione. And… if he can keep you safe, then I promise you I will like him." Ron looked at her then, smiling faintly._

_"Thanks, Ron – that means a lot to hear you say that," Hermione said, looking up into his blue eyes, which now shone with an indecipherable emotion. "What… what is it, Ron?"_

_He touched her cheek tenderly and gave her a small, sad smile. "If he can keep you safe, I'll like him. But… if he can make you happy, I'll love him."_

________________________________________________________

A/N: I hope you liked the chapter! More information on the Call of the Blood… bits and pieces will continue to come out as the story progresses. Please review and let me know how I'm doing! Scars is now complete, so this is the only story on my plate at the moment – I hope to update more often now. I'll aim for twice a week, and promise once a week (barring any strange occurrences in my "real life").  But, as always – the muses are fed by reviews, and I'm an admitted review whore, so please – feedback! Concrit ***is* **welcome.

Serpens Potio – Thank you for the review! I gladly accept your butterbeer. He's realizing that he will have to be even more careful with his emotional seduction in this chapter.

Athena Linborn – Yes, it is very much like drugs… except in this case they have to contend with both an internal and external force. 

The Perfectly Imperfect – Ron sent in the marriage proposal before going to Hogsmeade – but Hermione didn't want him to buy a ring (the Weasley money situation)… there will be more on that later in the story. I'm glad you liked the Call of the Blood… more in this chapter.

Imhilien – Thank you! I'm glad you found the Unforgivable explanation interesting.

Louise Luvgood – Now, you know I'm not going to give it away that easily... you'll have to read and find out if it's the early pulls of the Call or just her subconscious!

Dru – Another RAFO (Read and Find Out) concerning the third person who turned their back on the Call.

Smothered Light – Thank you – I'm glad you think Snape is in character… I'm trying ;)

Sabriel – I'm flattered, and I completely understand… there are so many fics out there, and so few "good" ones… I'm glad you think mine is one of the "good" ones. 

Anarane Anwamane, Taysa, Ezmerelda, babygidgurl, Jana, Fleria, Excessivelyperky, – Thank you so much for reviewing! 


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize (i.e. the Call of the Blood) is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**  
WendyNat  
  
Chapter 9

~~~~~~~

The next morning, Hermione lay quietly in the bed, feeling remarkably well rested. The nagging sense of fatigue that had plagued her since Ron's death was gone, due in thanks to three straight nights of blessed _sleep. _Three nights of sleep which were, in turn, due in thanks to the man lying on a cot beside her. Who could have guessed that his presence – his touch - would keep the memories… the nightmares… at bay? Raising her free hand, she brushed her hair from her face so that she could see him more clearly in the dim light. He was laying on his side, facing her, one arm stretching onto the bed and clasped in her hand. It was the first morning she had woken before Snape, and she didn't want to waste this opportunity to study him unobserved. 

She had once read that a person's face, while sleeping, is a reflection of how they looked as a child. If that were the case, Snape's childhood must have been difficult, indeed. Snape sleeping just looked like… well, _Snape, _asleep. The lines of his face were still hard and sharp, his nose and cheekbones just as angular… but as she continued to study him she noticed some things for the first time. His eyelashes were surprisingly long, fanning out in delicate curves over the pale skin. She moved her eyes down his face, over the aquiline nose – hooked, as Harry called it – and looked at his mouth. His lips were not as thin as they normally appeared, now that they weren't twisted into a sneer or thinned with annoyance. Well-shaped… almost sensuous… Firmly pushing the thought aside, she tore her eyes from his lips and continued her study.

His face was relaxed, with none of its usual tension. When awake, Snape's entire demeanor screamed of the powerful control he exerted over himself; she had wondered, before, just why he had to exercise such strong self-discipline. After much deliberation, she had blamed it on the strain of his role as a spy.  Now, after learning of the knife's edge on which he walked, day by day, she realized that she had missed the mark. 

The Call of the Blood. She sighed softly. At least she now knew the piece of the Snape puzzle that never fit quite right… the reason why, even before Voldemort had returned, Snape had been as spiteful and cruel as he was now that he had resumed his spy duties. Of course, she had tried to explain away that fact when defending him to Ron and Harry… she had persistently reminded them that Snape and Dumbledore – perhaps others – had long suspected that Voldemort wasn't truly dead… and so, he had to keep up appearances in anticipation of the Dark wizard's return. She had to admit that it had been a weak excuse, even to her ears. Ron had scoffed at her any time she brought it up.

Ron. At the thought of him, she recalled the dream she had had the previous night. That dream… it had seemed so _real. _As if he had really been there, talking to her… of course, it couldn't be… She swallowed hard; tears prickled her eyes as a wave of guilt washed over her. How much would be different if they had just consulted Ron's parents prior to sending in the proposal? As members of the Order, the older Weasley couple would have been able to warn the two young people. She would be safely ensconced in Beauxbatons and Ron… well, Ron would still be alive. She would never have stood outside, eyes downcast, listening guiltily as the Weasley family poured out their grief… she would never have had to see her friend's broken body… the blood – Gods, there had been so many wounds, so much blood drained that his skin glowed bluish white… except where the vivid crimson, still wet in places, had obscured the pale flesh…  

_Oh my God… Hermione, don't look! No, don't look!_

Harry had been right… she shouldn't have looked… but she had been compelled to… Ron…

She closed her eyes tightly, not noticing precisely when the pain dissolved and mutated, changing into a horrid resolve… 

_They will pay. I will make them pay._

Her eyes snapped open and, in a bizarre coincidence, she realized that she was staring directly at Snape's breastbone. The scar. The Blood Rites. She couldn't see the scar in the dim light, but she knew it was there… a thin diagonal line, paler even than the surrounding skin... When he had told her of the Rites the night before, she remembered feeling alternately cold and warm. Cold… cold with fright, with shock… revulsion… and then… warmth spread… Warm… she could _feel_ the lure, the pull… 

Oh, to avenge your loved ones' wrongful deaths… to incapacitate your opponent, look into his eyes, and coldly draw a knife across your flesh. To intone the words…

_Payment offered. Blood accepted._

They would know what was to come, oh, they would know… and in that eternal moment, whilst they waited for the knife to fall, whilst they waited for the Unforgivable to be cast - _they would know fear. _

_That _was vengeance… _that _was what she wanted. 

She wanted them to _pay. _ 

Her breathing had grown heavy as a thin red haze formed in the corners of her vision, and she felt an overwhelming urge to open the trunk, pull out the books… to learn… to grow in her power… to embrace all knowledge, that it might serve her… what could it hurt, after all? They weren't Books of the Blood… they were just Dark Arts books, fairly innocuous ones, at that. 

_Each step seems but a small one._

The silent words crashed over her mind like a wave of freezing water, subduing the craving… and she began to shake, even under the warmth of the bedcovers, clutching at Snape's arm with both hands like a drowning woman to a raft. 

_It has an energy, a will…_

_There is an external force to contend with. Something in addition to the Call of the Blood…_

_Oh, Gods! _And, in the back of her mind, a whimper… _help me… _

And then, _something _tamped it down… pushing the whimper, the fear, to the deepest recesses of her consciousness… 

"What's wrong?" The low voice, still gravelly from sleep, startled her. She moved her eyes up to meet Snape's gaze, staring at him blankly for a moment until she saw his eyes shift to where her hands still gripped his arm. She bit her lip and released him, scooting farther back on the bed. She could feel the pink rising in her cheeks, and was grateful for the dim light. 

"I'm… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." 

_Tell him! _The thought flitted through her mind. But, even as it appeared, another thought rose, shoving it aside… _Why? Why tell him about the books… about the pull I feel? He already knows it, he told me about it. As long as I don't read a Book of the Blood, I'm safe from the Call… why shouldn't I study whatever I can? What's the harm, really? _

Snape's voice resounded in her mind. _Each step seems but a small one. _

Black eyes stared at her; the deep inky pools narrowing as he came to full consciousness and considered her. "What is it, Hermione?"  

She opened her mouth, fully intending to let him know about the books, about the way they were calling to her, but even as the first word fell from her lips she felt that someone else – some_thing _else - had taken control of her tongue. "Nothing, really… my… my thoughts just ran away with me. I'm sorry to have woken you." 

She paused a moment in confusion and a part of her urged her mouth to cooperate, to tell him, to let him know how strongly she felt the draw… her mouth opened… and then she watched, as if outside her own body, as her mouth closed and she crawled from the bed. She walked steadily across the room, feeling his eyes on her as a physical weight until she shut the bathroom door firmly behind her. 

She stood in the shower, letting the water pour over her and bring her to full wakefulness. Lowering her head, she watched the sudsy water disappear down the drain as her mind raced, running through the possible scenarios. How would he react, if she did tell him about the books? Would they be stuck in a long conversation - or interrogation, rather - once again? What was the point in telling him, really? Of course he knew that the books were drawing her – he had told her they would, hadn't he? It's not like it would be a surprise to the man. 

_They are… more seductive than you realize._

By the time she finished her morning ablutions, she had convinced herself that it was foolish to bother him with her inconsequential worries. Hadn't he himself informed her, that night in his office, of how strong the lure was? There was no point in going into it all again. Especially now, this morning. Snape had mentioned that he had an early class, and she had arranged to meet Harry outside of the Head Girl's rooms to attend breakfast. There wasn't time for a long, drawn-out discussion…

Not to mention, it was now only four days until she had to take her NEWTs. And she needed to study.

She smiled to herself as she opened the bathroom door, satisfied with the results of her reasoning. She ignored the small voice nagging in the back of her mind, the voice that admitted the true reason she didn't tell him was that she was afraid he would take the books from her, ward them like he had the Book of the Blood. And _something_ inside of her did not want to see that happen. 

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Click. Click. Click.

With each click of her low heels on the stone floor, Hermione grew more apprehensive. Though the thought truly hadn't crossed her mind before, with everything else that had demanded her attention that weekend, she now realized that she would soon have to face the rest of the Gryffindors… the rest of the school… How long would it be before the student body found out about her betrothal to the fearsome Potions Master? What would their reactions be? 

She couldn't exactly tell them the true reasoning behind her decision… most of them didn't even know Snape was an ex-Death Eater, let alone a spy. How would she explain why she chose a man twenty years her senior over the golden boy of Slytherin House? Gods. Had Draco already spoken to the other Slytherins? What about other students who had family or friends working at the Ministry? What about other students who had family or friends working for Voldemort? 

Click. Click. Click.

They were approaching the Entrance Hall. The doors to the Great Hall were open, and she could see students milling about inside. _Maybe they won't notice me right away…_ To keep from drawing attention to herself she had donned her normal school robes, even though she was exempt from classes that week. _No, _she realized, _I'm exempt from classes forever. _She shook her head in disbelief. Her days as a Hogwarts student had ended Friday, and she hadn't even known it. Gods, she had had such a different image of how this year, her final year, would play out… and then that damned law was passed… 

To take her mind off of the worrisome thoughts, she commented, "I think I'm going to talk to McGonagall about the apprenticeship, Harry. She has a free period this morning."

"Good. I'm glad you chose her. At least that way you won't be with Snape all the time," Harry replied darkly. "And you can let McGonagall know if he gets out of line."

Hermione stopped and shook her head, annoyed but at the same time welcoming the distraction. "Harry, Dumbledore trusts him. And more importantly, _I _trust him. He's not going to 'get out of line.' And if he does, I'm sure I can handle it." She took a deep breath and looked at Harry earnestly. "Please… you're my closest friend. _Please_ don't make this any harder for me than it already is. There's so much… so much happened lately… and now this… it's just too much – I _need _your support, Harry. Please." _So much has happened that you don't even _know _about…and Gods help me, I can't tell you, Harry…  _

Harry had the grace to look ashamed. "You're right, 'Mione. I'm sorry." He gave her a little smile. "You know I'm here for you, no matter what your last name is."

She smiled back at him shakily. "Thanks, Harry. Merlin… what would Ron say to all of this?" 

Harry's response surprised her. "I don't know, 'Mione… but what I do know is that he'd first and foremost be worried about your safety. And it looks like right now Snape's the only one who can protect you… so I think he'd accept it." Harry grinned then. "But he sure wouldn't like it!" They both chuckled, and then Harry's face sobered and he gazed down at her seriously. "Are you ready?" She felt a chill of foreboding at the expression on his face.

"What have you heard, Harry? Is it… is it all over the school already?"

Harry shook his head quickly. "No… well, some people know. The Slytherins, of course… and you know, some people with parents that work for the Ministry. A couple of people asked me about it last night, actually. Susan Bones, Neville, a few others." 

She groaned. "How am I supposed to explain, Harry? I can't exactly tell anyone the truth!"

"Well, Hermione, for once, your studious reputation is working in your favor… with someone other than your teachers, that is." Harry turned and grinned at her, and she looked at him incredulously. 

"What are you talking about, Harry?"

He shrugged. "Well, I just said that the Malfoys would have kept you locked up as a breeding mare, and you wanted to finish your schooling, take an apprenticeship, you know. But if you marry Snape, you'll be living here, near all your books and the library… and he won't keep you from studying or taking an apprenticeship. Someone wondered why you didn't choose someone else your age, but then – you'll be surprised at this - Neville spoke up, defending your decision." 

The shock must have registered on her face, because Harry paused and nodded before continuing, "He said that after what happened to Ron, you'd be too scared about it happening to someone else… there's not much doubt in anyone's mind that Lucius Malfoy orchestrated the attack, Hermione. Most everyone knows he's a Death Eater - I don't think many people swallowed the whole spy excuse. Anyway, then Neville pointed out that as Head of Slytherin, not many people – Malfoys included - would cross _Snape_, would they?"

Hermione stared at Harry for a few moments before breaking out into a wide smile. "Oh, that's brilliant! Thank you, Harry! And I'll have to thank Neville, too!" She moved to hug him but he stopped her. 

"Hey, watch it, 'Mione! I don't want your fiancé mad at me… I hear he's a really bad sort to cross, powerful wizard, nasty temper and all," Harry said in a serious voice. He could only hold the matching expression for a moment before he burst out laughing. She shook her head, smacking him on the arm as an answering smile formed on her face. Leaning down, Harry enfolded her in his arms for a quick hug. "I'm here for you, Hermione. Now, let's go in, all right?" 

Nodding, Hermione stepped back and took a deep breath. And they walked through the doors into the Great Hall. 

_"That's her!" _

_"Where?"_

_"With Harry Potter… see?"_

_"Wow…"_

_"Did you hear…"_

_"Snape, yeah… can you believe it… I didn't even think he was interested in you know… human stuff…"_

_"I heard he was a vampire!"_

_"Don't be an idiot."_

_"What? I hadn't heard that… how did you know…"_

_"I heard Malfoy…"_

_"Our Head Girl… she must be pretty good, to satisfy that git…"_

_"Do you think they already…"_

"Maybe what happened to Ron Weasley made her go mental. I mean, marrying Snape? That's just crazy…"

The whispers washed over her, but the bolstering effects of Harry's friendship and support kept them from sinking their claws in. She was gratified to hear a few supportive words mingled in with the shocked whispers and jeers. 

_"Can't blame her, Malfoy's a nasty sort…"_

_"Mum works at the Ministry, no way was Malfoy's dad a spy… bet he was involved…"_

_"After what happened to her boyfriend…"_

_"Snape's safer, that's for sure… Malfoy won't cross the Head of Slytherin…"_

_"I feel so bad for her… first her parents, then her friend…"_

_"They're both smart, she's got her nose in books all the time and he's got his big nose in cauldrons all the time, what's the big deal?"_

_"She'll be able to stay here at Hogwarts – it's logical… and she didn't have much of a choice, really…"_

_"At least she's not risking anyone else's life, you know?"_

She struggled to swallow past the lump in her throat when she saw a familiar head of red hair turn in their direction. Ginny smiled, not quite as brightly as she did before, but it was a smile. "Hi, Hermione. Harry." She moved over on the bench to give the other two room to sit.

"Hi." Hermione smiled back uncertainly and slid into the bench. Her appetite returning at the sight of the food, she tore into the offerings with gusto. Finally, she looked at Ginny. "How have you been?"

Ginny stared down at her plate for a moment. "I'm all right. As well as can be expected, I suppose." The redhead raised her eyes then, staring at Hermione. "Mum and Dad told me… was it… are you…" Her voice trailed off.

Hermione nodded, summoning another smile. "It's all right… it's the – the best choice, really."

Ginny nodded. "I know… Mum explained it, at length," Ginny said wryly, rolling her eyes. "I think she was trying to convince herself more than me, to tell you the truth. Are you really all right with it?"

Hermione shrugged, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice. "Well, it's not exactly the ideal choice, but there really weren't any other options. I couldn't stand it if…" She found, suddenly, that she couldn't continue the sentence. She stared into Ginny's face, so like Ron's… the freckles, the openness…

You cannot bring back the dead.

"Ginny knows, Hermione," Harry said quietly from her other side. At his words, Ginny nodded quickly and put a hand on her arm.

"I _do_ understand. It makes sense. You know, Hermione… Ron… Ron would want you to be safe. And if Snape can do that, then… well, then it's the right thing to do," the redhead said earnestly. Hermione just nodded, her voice failing her. Suddenly, she was distracted by the arrival of Lavender and Parvati. She sighed inwardly as they took their normal seats across the table from Hermione. 

Lavender spoke first. "Hi, Hermione. Oh, Merlin - we _heard_. I can't believe it… after all you've been through already… is it true? Did you really choose Snape over Malfoy?" _Could you speak just a little louder, Lavender? There are a few students sleeping in up in Ravenclaw Tower who didn't hear you, _Hermione thought dryly. She knew without looking that heads had turned in their direction, waiting to hear her response. 

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "Yes, it's true. I…" She looked at Harry then, and remembered what he had said earlier. "I want to take an apprenticeship, you know, attain a Mastery… and the Malfoys-"

"Oh, you don't have to justify it, Hermione. We both think you did the right thing," Parvati said gravely. "Malfoy's good-looking, but he's just… he's such a _toad_. And that family…" She gave a delicate shudder.  

Lavender nodded. "We heard what Harry and Neville said-" At this, Hermione glanced up at Neville and gave him a sincere smile. "It makes sense, but still – Merlin! I mean, _Snape_?" Lavender glanced over at Parvati and the two shared a smirk. Lavender turned back to her, and Hermione barely avoided rolling her eyes at the girl's pathetic attempt at a secretive expression. Leaning close to her, Lavender whispered, "I bet it has something to do with what we talked about a couple of weeks ago, doesn't it?" 

Hermione felt the pink rise in her cheeks despite her efforts to remain calm, and Lavender and Parvati's triumphant looks told her that they had noticed. "I don't think I want to talk about this right now, guys," Hermione said in a low voice. Ginny gave the two girls a hard look, and they subsided. Hermione reached under the table and gave her hand a squeeze in thanks.

Suddenly, Lavender giggled. "You're right, you're right… this is girl talk – we'll catch up with you later, when these boys aren't around," the blonde girl said, winking at her conspiratorially. Hermione bit back a sarcastic remark just in time. 

"I've got to study for my NEWTs – I'm taking them this Friday," Hermione said. When the two girls continued to stare at her expectantly, she sighed. "We'll… we'll get together sometime to talk. I promise. Just… it may have to wait, you know, until after I take my tests." 

Parvati shrugged. "That's fine. I'm surprised you even came down here to eat, knowing you and your studying." Then the dark-haired girl shook her head. "I just can't believe it… you know, soon you'll be Hermione Snape, not Hermione Granger."

"Hermione Snape… that sounds kind of… I don't know," Ginny said. "It'll be weird to change your name, won't it?" 

Hermione glanced up at the Head Table and found herself looking directly into Snape's dark eyes. He had been staring at her, she realized with a jolt. He quickly averted his gaze… as if he were uncomfortable with her regard. That didn't make sense – the man was the epitome of confidence. Absently, still pondering the dark-haired wizard… her fiancé, she said, "I'm just glad that it's not changing to Malfoy."  

"Your loss, Granger." The unpracticed drawl came from behind her, and every muscle in her body tensed. She didn't turn around immediately, still looking towards the Head Table for a few moments. She watched as McGonagall glanced over and then turned to attract Snape's attention, could see his black eyes shift and take in the scene. He stood immediately, sweeping down from the Head Table, giving her an unreadable look. 

"I need to say something to you, Granger." She remained facing forward, ignoring the man behind her, stalling for time. Her mind worked feverishly… _why _hadn't she thought to speak with Severus before this? Was she supposed to act civil to Malfoy, to keep up the pretense of Snape's manipulation of her? Was she supposed to act natural? Would that get Snape in hot water with the Death Eaters?

Then, she heard Harry spit out, "Just get out of here, Malfoy. She doesn't want to talk to you." 

Making a quick decision, she said, "It's all right, Harry. I'm rather curious to hear just what he has to say." After taking a deep breath to calm herself and help keep her anger under control, she turned in her chair and stared up at the attractive blond impassively. His face was twisted into a sneer, and she had to bite back a laugh. She had a good idea who he was attempting to imitate, but he was a far cry from the original. 

From the corner of her eye, she could see Harry's fists clench, his knuckles turning white. She put a hand on his arm in an unspoken command, waiting for Draco to speak.  

Draco stared back at her, his pale grey eyes narrowed, and then he leaned down, whispering into her ear, "I may have to have you before they cast the Fidelity charm, Mudblood. You must really be something, if Snape wants you that badly… he's pretty selective, from what Father tells me." 

She said nothing, but her hands began to tremble as she fought the urge to smack him. She turned away, not wanting to see his face, afraid that if she did she wouldn't be able to withstand the desire to hit him in that sneering mouth. The sneering mouth that was still speaking in her ear, too low for the others to hear. "If you're good enough for my Head of House, you just might be good enough for me." A finger trailed over her shoulder and she flinched away… but he gripped her arm before she could move far.

"That's it, Malfoy! Let her go!" Harry's yell was disregarded as Draco pulled her closer, his lips brushing her ear as he continued to whisper words that only she could hear. 

"Don't act shy. You're not an innocent - I know Weasley had you. Speaking of the Weasel… did you know, Mudblood? Did you know your name was the last thing that passed his lips? Did you-" his words were cut off as Harry stood and pushed him away from her. Malfoy's hand was still on her arm and she shook it off violently as she stared at him in shock… as his sharp face twisted into a cold smile. Biting her tongue firmly, she stood from her seat, trembling with the effort of holding back her pain, of holding back her temper… she was amazingly relieved to hear a familiar cold voice behind them.  

"Mr. Malfoy." 

Snape did not sound pleased. 

With a questioning glance at Severus, who gave her a slight nod and flicked his eyes to the door, she turned and stalked out of the Great Hall. She could hear his commanding voice behind her as she walked away. "Malfoy, you will come with me. Potter…" Then the cool, angry tones were swallowed by the rising rumble of whispers and exclamations from the students who had witnessed the scene. 

Though she didn't hear what Severus had said to Harry, she surmised that it had been an order to follow her when the green-eyed young man appeared at her side shortly after she left the Great Hall. 

"Hermione…"

"I don't want to talk about it, Harry," her voice thick with unshed tears. Malfoy's whispered words kept playing over and over again in her head. 

_Did you know your name was the last thing that passed his lips?_

Harry wisely remained silent. With a sympathetic glance, he took her arm and led her back up the stairs to the Head Girl's rooms. She wasn't surprised when he entered with her, closing and warding the door behind him. 

Turning to her, he gave her a somber look and said without preamble, "Snape sent me after you. I think he was worried that Draco was up to something. Something other than the obvious, that is." Hermione just nodded and, hugging her arms around her, sat on the bed. Harry lit the fire and sat down next to her. "What did that prat say to you, Hermione?"

Hermione opened her mouth, but found that she just couldn't repeat the words. Looking up into his green eyes, she realized that she really _couldn't _tell him… he would recognize the significance just as quickly as she had, and likely go and attack Malfoy. And that would be of no benefit to anyone. Thinking quickly, she said, "Typical Malfoy, that's all. I don't really want to talk about it, Harry."

Harry stared at her, troubled, and replied softly, "All right, Hermione. I won't press you, but I… I hope you'll tell me sometime." 

Feeling guilty, she broke down and told him the first part of Malfoy's little speech. As she spoke, Harry's face grew thunderous. "Just wait till I get my hands on him… that little ferret-faced ba-"

"Harry, just let it drop. Please? It won't help me any if you go after Malfoy," Hermione said glumly, pulling her feet up on the bed and resting her head on her knees. "It'll probably just make things more complicated. Why do you think I didn't smack him?" 

A knock on the door startled them both, and before Hermione could react Harry cast a revealing charm on the door. Lavender, Parvati, and Ginny were on the other side. At Harry's questioning look, Hermione sighed and nodded. "Let them in, please, Harry." _Might as well get it all over with at once, _she thought wryly. _And they've got to get to class soon enough, so they won't be here too long._

The two older girls brushed past Harry and entered the room while Ginny hung back a little, watching her worriedly. Hermione gave her a tentative smile, which the redhead returned. In a matter of moments, the four were standing in a semi-circle in front of her, blocking her view of the rest of the room. She began to feel slightly claustrophobic.

Lavender spoke first. "Merlin, Hermione! What did Malfoy _say _to you?" Before she could even open her mouth to answer, Parvati's enthusiastic voice chimed in.

"You should have seen Professor Snape's face – boy, was he angry!" Parvati said, her eyes shining with admiration. 

Ginny spoke then, her tone quieter and more serious than the others. "I'm not sure what the Professor said to Draco, Hermione, but I don't think you need to worry about him bothering you anymore."

The redhead jumped when a smooth, deep voice came from behind her. "I sincerely hope not, Miss Weasley. I would not, however, count on it." _Severus? _Hermione thought, surprised when the four people in front of her moved and she caught sight of her fiancé. 

He had obviously just floo'ed from his rooms. She watched as a long-fingered hand elegantly brushed at the sleeve of his robes, ridding it of the small amount of floo powder that had taken residence on the cloth. He was, of course, in his full Potions Master persona, scowl and all; even so, she felt unaccountably better for his presence. A warm feeling spread through her when she realized why he was there. _He's checking up on me._

"Hello, Professor Snape," Lavender and Parvati said almost in unison. Hermione couldn't hold back a roll of her eyes, and she saw Severus' eyes glint faintly in amusement when he saw her expression. The scowl remained firmly on his face, however, so she doubted if the others noticed it. 

"Miss Brown. Miss Patil. I believe you both have classes to attend? And, as I recall, classes are _not _held in the Head Girl's rooms," Snape said coolly, his eyes not leaving Hermione's as he spoke. This fact did not bypass the two girls' notice, and Hermione winced at the knowing look the two girls exchanged before they took their leave. 

"See you tonight, Hermione, at dinner," Lavender called out as the door closed behind them. Hermione shook her head and looked at her feet until she heard Harry's voice. 

"Professor, I-"

Severus cut him off with a wave of his hand. Giving Harry a hard look, he said curtly, "Potter. I believe you and Miss Weasley also have classes to attend?" Harry and Ginny both nodded reluctantly, and Severus' lips thinned in irritation. "Then, if you would be so _kind_-" his voice was dripping with sarcasm "-as to excuse us, I would like to speak with my fiancée." The two Gryffindors stared at him without moving for a moment, until he snapped, "_Alone_." 

Severus' eyes met hers once more, and she was lost in the blazing depths… only vaguely aware when the other two left the room. She had the presence of mind to nod mutely when Harry reminded her that they'd meet after their afternoon classes for dinner. Once the door shut behind them, Severus drew out his wand and warded the door before turning back to her. 

"What did Malfoy say to you, Hermione?" If she didn't know better, she would say he looked… concerned. She shrugged uneasily.

"Just… just some filth. Typical things, I suppose." She didn't meet his gaze as she spoke, and she felt the weight of his stare on her. It didn't lift even when she finished speaking, and she began to fidget. Finally, she could stand the silence no longer and whispered, "He was there, Severus." She flicked her eyes to his face, meeting his gaze.

"Explain," he demanded, his arms crossed. 

"He was there," she said, her voice a little stronger this time, "when Ron was killed." Not a flicker from those black eyes. _He knew, _she realized. Or suspected. In a halting voice, she told him what Malfoy had said, the last words Ron had spoken. "And that's when you walked up."

"I see." Another calculating stare, and Severus uncrossed his arms, tapping a finger thoughtfully on his chin. "Lucius could have told the boy. Or he could be bluffing. But-" Hermione was already shaking her head – Draco's words had had the ring of truth to them. Snape frowned. "Allow me to finish, Hermione. As I was saying – he could be bluffing… _but _I would be very surprised indeed if Draco had not had a personal hand in Mr. Weasley's murder."

She stood then, pacing, her mind spinning from this new knowledge. "I guess… I guess I should have already known… but… I mean, he – he was a fellow _student_. What – _how _could someone hate that much? When Ron had never done anything to him?"

Snape's dark eyes watched her as she moved around the room. His voice was expressionless when he responded. "You know why."

Hermione shook her head and she paced back to stand in front of him, staring up at him. "But…" Her eyes lowered, and she stared blankly at the darkness of the robes covering his chest. "There was just so much… so much blood… it was so… I've never seen… You must think I'm being silly." Her voice trailed off and she began to shiver, the gruesome image burning in her mind. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry, not to lose face in front of _him_. 

She was surprised, and grateful, when she felt two strong arms come around her, a bit tentatively. As she leaned into him, wanting – no, _needing _- his warmth to banish the memories, she could feel his arms tighten around her, holding her close. With a shaky sigh, she huddled against him, winding her own arms around his lean waist. Her hands could feel the shape of him even through the layers of cloth, and she let out a sigh of appreciation.

They stood there in silence for a moment before he spoke, his voice rumbling underneath her ear. "It is the Call, Hermione. And… I have seen Lucius'…. _handiwork_ before. It is not…" he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing bitterly, "Even for a Death Eater, that man is atypically demented. And his son appears to be following closely in his footsteps." His hands began to rub slowly up and down her back, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. The comfort.

She never would have thought she would feel such comfort from his arms… she relaxed bonelessly against him, breathing in his scent. She allowed herself to be soothed, the tension melting from her until… 

"What else did he say, Hermione?" 

She stiffened instantly at the question, and she could feel his own tension when the movement of his hands against her back changed… becoming less fluid, more mechanical. She pulled back to look at him before answering and saw that his face was hard and cold. 

"Um…" Suddenly, she was embarrassed as she recalled what Draco had whispered in her ear. She shrugged weakly. "The usual stuff, I suppose."

"Humor me," he said dryly, his eyes narrowing. Swallowing hard, she let her arms drop from his waist as she told him, in halting words, what Malfoy had insinuated. As she spoke, Severus' hands came to rest on her shoulders and she saw something like anger flash in his eyes for a moment before the shutters came back down. 

A line between his brows the only sign of his anger, he said, "I feared as much." His hands tightened on her shoulders and he said, "Hermione, you _must _stay away from Malfoy."

Hermione nodded uncertainly, confused. "But… Severus… I mean, I thought Volde-" she stopped when a strange look passed his face, and corrected herself, "The Dark Lord, then. I thought he had approved your plan? Won't he be angry if Draco ruins it somehow?"

Severus shook his head, letting his hands drop to his sides. She felt the loss of contact acutely. "Perhaps. But Lucius would likely be able to spin it into a positive… he is simply _assisting _me in my endeavor by allowing me to _save _you from his son. Your gratitude, of course, would know no bounds…" he said in a sneering voice. Severus began to pace, his full teaching robes flowing behind him as he moved. He stopped suddenly and turned to her. "Hermione – you must remember that Lucius _always_ has his own agenda. There are many things he could be planning, and none of them to your benefit. As such… I must insist that, prior to the handfasting, you go _nowhere _without the company of an Order member. And before you get too brave for your own good, please remember that Draco is not the only one to fear." 

"What do you mean?" she asked. 

He fixed her with his gaze then, pinning her with his black eyes. "Crabbe and Goyle both left a few minutes before Draco approached you this morning, Hermione. I have no doubt that they were lying in wait outside the Great Hall."

"That's why you sent Harry after me," she blurted out, coloring when he gave her an impatient glare. "Sorry."

"Potter is an irritant, but he is powerful. And an Order member." His lips twisted with annoyance as he said the last words, leaving her no doubt as to his opinion on that subject. "Even after the handfasting, I would prefer you to go nowhere alone. If I am not available, then stay near Potter, or even the Weasley girl… two victims are always more difficult to subdue than one, and that fact - in addition to fear of my own retribution - ought to be sufficient to quell any opportunist attacks."

She decided not to ask how he spoke so knowledgably about the difficulty in subduing more than one victim at a time. "Severus… speaking of Ginny… should – should I be seen talking to her? I mean, I don't know what Vo- the Dark Lord thinks the plan is…"

Severus gave her a shrewd glance before answering. "You should react to everyone - besides myself, of course – naturally, Hermione. Even those two irritating twits that were present when I arrived. I will let you know when adjustments should be made. We cannot make changes too quickly, or it will not be believable. For now, all of your friendships should remain intact. Particularly the one with Potter, since we are counting on your ability to spy on the boy."

"Besides yourself, you say? And just how should I react to you, then?" Hermione couldn't help but ask mischievously. 

Severus' eyes glinted, and a small smile played on his lips. "Worshipful adoration?" She snorted, eliciting a chuckle from him. "Trust, for now, Hermione. You should act as though you have absolute trust in me. Again, I will let you know when that should change."

"That won't be difficult," she murmured, almost unable to maintain eye contact under his suddenly intense gaze. "Because I _do _trust you." 

His eyes closed briefly at her words, and when they opened again she was unable to read the expression she saw in them. She held her breath as he raised a hand to her cheek, stroking it with a single finger. Then he pulled his hand back and said brusquely, "I do have a class shortly. Are you returning to the rooms to continue studying?"

Slightly taken aback by the sudden switch in his demeanor, she shook her head mutely before finding her voice. "I – I was going to speak to Professor McGonagall, about an apprenticeship, but if you think-"

"No, no – that will be fine. I will escort you there, and she can bring you back here to return to my chambers. To _our_ chambers," he said with a small frown. She nodded and they left the room. 

As they walked down the corridors, she was overly aware of the heat of his body next to hers. They were closer than a normal teacher-student walking distance… not touching, but his robes did brush against her occasionally. She was so lost in her thoughts that she jumped slightly when he spoke. "I believe Transfiguration is an excellent choice."

She nodded and answered in a low voice so as not to be overheard, "I thought it would be a good idea, especially with Professor McGonagall being an Order member." In a slightly louder voice, she added, "And I am interested in the field, of course. It was down to that or Charms…"

"You chose well, Hermione." He sounded quite sincere. She was relieved – a part of her had been concerned that he may expect her to choose Potions, despite what she had said about an unequal relationship. She glanced up at him and saw that he was watching her shrewdly. 

"Thank you." He nodded in response, and then they were in front of McGonagall's office. The door opened almost immediately after Severus knocked, and they were ushered quickly into her office. 

"Good morning, Miss Granger," McGonagall said, and then she turned to Severus. "Severus – I trust that you were able to handle the aftermath of this morning's little scene…" Severus nodded, smirking, and McGonagall let out a breath. "Thank you. And how can I help you, Miss Granger?"

"I wanted to speak with you concerning an apprenticeship, Professor. I'm taking my NEWTs-" Hermione began, trailing off when McGonagall's face broke out into a wide smile. 

"That is wonderful, Miss Granger. I won't insult your intelligence and pretend that we haven't all been waiting to find out what field you would choose. I'm very pleased that you chose Transfiguration – I've wanted to take on an apprentice for some time, but no one with the gift has applied. Until now." 

Severus made an impatient sound and said curtly, "You may stroke Hermione's ego to your heart's desire, but do wait until after I leave. Now, I have a class to get to, Minerva – I need to know if you will escort her back to the Head Girl's rooms when you are through here? After this morning's… altercation… with Malfoy, we need to be on alert."

McGonagall was quick to reassure. "Of course, Severus. Go back to your dungeons – I'm sure the students will be completely broken hearted if you aren't there immediately at the start of the period." 

"Oh, I'm quite sure you are correct, Minerva," Snape said, the smile playing at the corners of his lips betraying his amusement. As he turned to leave, he caught Hermione's eye for a long moment. Her breath froze in her chest at the intensity of his stare. "Do be careful, Hermione," he said sleekly, touching her hand gently before stalking out of the office. 

She stared after him until she heard a throat clear behind her. "Miss Granger?" Whirling around guiltily, she felt her cheeks redden as Professor McGonagall gave her an all too knowing look.

"I'm sorry, Professor-"

Professor McGonagall's raised eyebrows and amused expression did nothing to suppress the heat in Hermione's cheeks. "It's quite all right, Miss Granger. I understand perfectly."

____________________________________________________________________

A/N: Longest chapter yet… I hope you enjoyed it! Either way, please read and review!! It does the muses good! (This chapter was early – see?? It worked! Do it again! ;) ). 

The Perfectly Imperfect – Thank you! I'm taking it slow – trying to keep it as realistic as possible (well, for a fanfic, of course ;) )

Smothered Light – Yes, there will definitely be more about the Call of the Blood… it is a main theme throughout the fic. I'm glad you like the concept!

Ezmerelda – I would apologize for it making you queasy, but I'm too happy that you get into the story enough for that to happen! Thanks for reviewing!

Serpens Potio – Oh, yes… most definitely… lots of blood magic later on. I won't say who will be doing it, though ;). That's one of my favorite quotes, also! I love bringing in actual canon scenes and "explaining" them with my fic – I'm glad you enjoy that. And on Snape apologizing – he was just doing it as part of his "plan" – as he thought to himself – he normally wouldn't apologize to a student, but he would do what he must. 

DagginLady – Thank you for the review, and I had to laugh at your warning about idea stealing! All of these plots are so over-done in fanfiction, and in fiction as a whole – particularly the "closure" dream of a dead lover OK'ing the living to move on… I think I've seen that in a number of books, etc. So rest assured, no accusations here! LOL! Now, if you have the Call of the Blood and the Books of the Blood… complete with liquid blood ink, I may call you on it ;). 

Athena – I replied to you via email, but I wanted to thank you again "publicly" for finding that discrepancy. I've reloaded the incorrect chapters to fix it. (Your friends are dead… should be Your parents are dead… for anyone who's wondering – it appeared incorrectly in Chapters 2 and 4)

Lldyro – Snape will have to be very careful with what dialogue he allows Voldemort to see. Some reaction of the other students in this chapter – more in later chapters. Thanks!

Electryone – I'm not a fan of drawing things out like that… maybe because I'm so upfront about things like that in real life (or I was, at least, in my swingin' single days). I find myself getting too irritated with characters who are oblivious to their own mutual attraction – gah! Anyhoo – thanks for reviewing, and I'm glad we're on the same page on that issue ;).

Tasya – You guessed right… it's part of the plot :). And I'm not gonna give it away!

Jinxd n cursed – Thank you! That is high praise indeed… they are very different stories in tone and "mood"… I'm glad you're liking it! I wasn't sure how many people would be able to make the switch from the more light-hearted fics I had already done.

Griffon, Arafel2, Athena Linborn, PrphtssP, xSnapeLoverx, Lisa, Hpgirl55 – Thanks so much for reviewing!!! I really appreciate it, and the muse does, too!

And now – a quote from "Maeglinyedi's guide to leaving feedback":

_"And even if they might not agree with your views on something, most authors won't mind hearing about them and exchanging thoughts with you about it. Anything that makes an author think about their work is usually a good thing, even if they don't necessarily agree with your ideas."_

That is an absolutely true statement for me! And, that said, I'd like to respond - with an extremely long character analysis (skip if you wish) - to… 

Keket Amunet – Thanks so much for the review, and thanks for being such a consistent reviewer – you always give me a lot to think about :). I spent a lot of time considering what you said concerning the characterizations in respects to the forced Legilimency in Ch4 (which is only fair as you thought a lot about my story to take the time to analyze the characters and give me your feedback). I want to explain my view of the characters within the realm of this story, so you can see why I crafted their reactions to the forced Legilimency a bit differently than you may have expected… I'm not trying to change your opinion, I just want to give my reasoning behind that scene and the aftermath – hopefully it will make it sit better with you and not "clang" so much as you read.

**Snape**: First of all – I can't say it enough, but Snape is not nice in this fic. He's high-handed, controlling, manipulative, and will do almost anything to reach the goal he needs to attain. Which I believe is fairly true to canon. As such, he will do whatever he feels he needs to do in order to ensure Hermione's safety. The forced Legilimency, to him, was a "nicer" way of doing it than administering Veritaserum. As far as him viewing it as mind rape (I do understand your view on that, by the way, and I don't disagree) – I honestly don't think he'd be that concerned about it for this reason: it is done to him at every Death Eater meeting by Lord Voldemort. So, since **he** has to go through it on a consistent basis, I think the significance of the act as being incredibly intrusive would dull in his mind. He's used to it being used as a tool, and it's just not a "big deal" to him. 

**Hermione:** On Hermione's side – the girl is completely overwhelmed. Almost to the breaking point. Within the span of three weeks, she has lost both parents, received a marriage proposal from one of her biggest enemies, has gotten engaged, has had her fiancé and best friend killed, has seen the ravaged body of said best friend, has begun to dabble in the Dark Arts, has learned some pretty heavy stuff regarding said Dark Arts, and is being coerced into marrying her Potions Master – who, up until a few days ago, she just saw as an irritating, albeit respected, teacher. With the Dark Arts study added, there is no one left that can understand what she's going through – she doesn't feel as if Harry really knows her anymore, and she can't afford to tell him about what she's done. 

In my mind, she's frightened, alone, and clinging to Snape as a drowning woman clings to a log. He's the only one that she knows who can truly understand what she's done, and the reasons why, and he's her only guide through all of this. She's concentrating on the "good" aspects of him and glossing over the "bad" – as just about anyone in that situation would do. Also, don't forget that at the time of the forced Legilimency, she was horribly sleep deprived – one night of sleep after a week of none will make anyone act unusual… that was illustrated in how high-strung (as one reviewer put it) she was in the first chapter. (I know this from personal experience… if you ever want to see me "out of character," deny me sleep! ;) )

She already knew he was high-handed and manipulative, and a control freak – she's been in classes with him for seven years. She knows he's a jerk. And that's why I really didn't feel that his use of forced Legilimency would have shocked her… make her angry, yes. And it did. But once she could "logic" through the reasons why, her mind pushed it to the side… there was just too much else going on that had "front-and-center" in her mind. (I haven't even mentioned the studying for the NEWTs) To get back to the log analogy – a drowning woman doesn't let go of that log just because it's giving her splinters. Better to have splinters in your palm than to drown, and that's the situation Hermione is in right now. The question may become – what do she do with that log once she reaches dry land? If she ever does. Hmmmm.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize (i.e. the Call of the Blood) is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 10

~~~~~~~~

Her cheeks burning, Hermione took the seat that Professor McGonagall waved her to. _Great way to impress her, Hermione, _she chided herself. _Ogle another Professor right in front of her. _

McGonagall gazed at her for a moment silently, and the knowing look the older woman gave her made her wince inwardly in embarrassment. Finally, McGonagall cleared her throat and said, "Well, Miss Granger, I have to say I'm very pleased you've chosen Transfiguration as your specialization of study. I had thought that you may choose Potions, with the… current situation in mind."

Hermione shook her head. "No, Professor… it's actually due to the current situation that I _didn't _choose Potions. I didn't think it would be a good idea to be in a… a marriage… with someone who has that sort of position over me."

The Professor smiled. "Yes, Albus told me that was why you decided to take your NEWTs early. A very wise decision, Miss Granger. Though that really shouldn't surprise me – you've always shown a certain wisdom beyond your years." McGonagall paused for a moment before stating, "I hope you realize that the master/apprentice relationship is rather different than that of teacher/student. I will, for instance, request that you use my given name, and vice-versa, when there are no students present. You will be my assistant as much as I am your mentor, and most of the work that you do will be with my guidance but without my command, if that makes sense." Hermione nodded, a tentative smile appearing on her face. "Very well, then," Professor McGonagall said, and they launched into a discussion of the specifics that would be required from them both when Hermione became her apprentice. 

After going over the requirements and agreeing to begin the official apprenticeship the middle of the next week, Hermione said, "Well… I do have my NEWTs to study for, still. I really should get back. Thank you so much for speaking with me, and accepting me as your apprentice."

McGonagall sat back and looked at the young woman in front of her. To Hermione surprise, the older witch said, "Hermione? Don't fret so over your NEWTs, please. This apprenticeship offer is completely independent of those tests. I know your skills quite well from the years you've studied here at Hogwarts. Keep in mind, once you attain your Mastery, no one will be concerned with those scores."

"Thank you, Professor." When McGonagall raised her eyebrows sternly, she smiled and amended, "Minerva, that is."

Minerva was silent for a moment, watching her appraisingly. Finally, the older witch spoke. "Would you like some tea, Hermione? There are a couple of other things I would like to discuss with you. Things that I was already planning on speaking with you about when Albus told me of the… situation. I promise not to take too much of your time."

Hermione nodded hesitantly. "All right, Prof- Minerva."

Minerva took a deep breath and said, "I will admit I was rather concerned when Albus told me of the situation in which you found yourself this past Friday." At Hermione's guarded look, Minerva raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Hermione, I know everything that occurred. And while I cannot condone your actions… or your intentions… that doesn't mean I do not _understand_ your motivations. I'm only thankful that Severus was able to… be of some help to you, regarding your decision." Hermione was mortified. It was bad enough that Snape and Dumbledore knew of her Dark Arts study, but Professor McGonagall? Her Head of House? _And Deputy Headmistress, don't forget, _she reminded herself. Of course Dumbledore would inform her of Hermione's actions.

Belatedly, Hermione realized that McGonagall was awaiting a response. "Um… I appreciate that, Professor."

McGonagall gave her another shrewd look before reminding her, "It's Minerva, child." A short pause, and then she continued, "Don't be ashamed, Hermione. You aren't the only one to feel the lure – but in the end, you made the right choice." Hermione swallowed guiltily. _What would McGonagall think if she knew about the books? If she knew what I'm planning? _

_They will pay. I will make them pay._

Belatedly, she realized Minerva had continued speaking. "…you ever attended a wizarding handfasting before, Hermione?" Hermione shook her head, and Minerva smiled. "That's what I thought. I asked Albus, but he wasn't sure. If I may… the ceremony itself isn't complicated, but it's only right that you know what to expect. And the preparations can seem rather… daunting… to someone unfamiliar with them. If you would allow me, I would like to offer my services. I daresay I've assisted with a fair number of handfastings in my life."

Hermione's mind was whirling. With everything else going on, she hadn't even considered the preparations necessary. "Goodness… I hadn't even thought about it, Minerva. Please, yes – if you could help me, I'd appreciate it. I suppose I should get some books on it, but I don't really have time to do a lot of reading…" She stopped when Minerva chuckled.

"Leave it to me, Miss Granger. I've done enough of these ceremonies to know what's what. I'll be happy to act as your mentor. First of all, there are some things we'll need to pick up in Diagon Alley – your gown, of course, and the cords that you'd like to use." 

Hermione just blinked at her. It was really going to happen… When would they find time to do all of this? Aside from her need to study, Minerva had classes… As if reading her thoughts, Minerva continued, "I would suggest late Wednesday morning, if that sounds acceptable. I have a free period immediately before and after lunch." Hermione nodded absently. _This is really happening. _The memory of Albus' voice from just a few days ago rang in her mind.

Miss Granger… Voldemort wishes for you to marry a Death Eater. And… we just happen to have one right here…

With an expression bordering on concern, Minerva said, "Hermione – are you all right, child?"

Startled out of her reverie, she said, "Yes, yes… I'm fine. This is all just so… it's hard to digest. It was such an abstract idea, when Professor Dumbledore and Severus first told me about it… marrying Severus… but now, talking about handfasting gowns and cords…" Hermione shrugged weakly. 

This is the best solution for you.

"Severus is a good man," Minerva said gently. After a short pause, the older witch raised one eyebrow and commented, "And not entirely unattractive to you, I believe?"

"Not… not unattractive, no," Hermione said in a low voice, looking down at her hands and willing herself not to blush again. She heard Minerva stand and move around the desk. When she looked up again, she saw that the older witch had taken the seat next to her. 

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Hermione. I'm relieved, to be honest. When Albus first told me… well. You can imagine my concerns, I'm sure. Severus is a good man, true, but he's not a particularly _nice _man… and not the type that most young woman are attracted to, though he can certainly be charming enough when he so desires." _Yes, he certainly can, _Hermione thought, her lips curving into a small smile before she could stop them. Minerva chuckled lightly. "Well, I'm glad, again, that you show more wisdom and maturity than other girls your age. And _taste_."

"Um… Thank you, Minerva," Hermione said uncertainly.

"It's the simple truth, dear. And, if I may… we will be spending quite a lot of time together in the near future. Please feel free to discuss _any _subject that is on your mind. I'm old enough not to judge." McGonagall's intent stare gave her no doubts as to which subject she was referring to. "I know you have some friends your own age to speak with, but when you feel the need for an older woman's experience and advice… well. Please feel free to come to me. Severus is… a very complicated man."

"Minerva – I think that's a bit of an understatement." 

                  *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

That evening, Severus' eyes sought out the Gryffindor table as soon as he entered through the small staff door behind the Head Table. Hermione was already there, seated once again between Miss Weasley and Potter. Instantly, his eyes scanned the Slytherin table, noting with satisfaction the subdued demeanor of Malfoy and his two sidekicks. It was unlikely that the boy would attempt anything else that day, at least… although he had little hope for the boy's continued restraint over the remainder of the week. 

The younger Malfoy had proven himself to be just as immune to common sense as his father, and the… temptation… that Miss Granger presented may well be too much for his overwhelming lack of control. He had not been exaggerating when he had told the Dark Lord that the boy lacked subtlety and intelligence. Severus sighed. Indeed, the girl was a temptation in many ways. Besides the obvious use for the Dark Lord, she was a strangely appealing girl. With a deliciously curved form, as his eyes had noted a number of times over the weekend, and as his body had noted earlier that day during their embrace… he firmly shoved the thought aside. 

Seating himself beside Minerva, he offered his fellow Head of House a clipped greeting before turning his attention back to the Gryffindor table. She was speaking with Longbottom, and smiling at something he said. Severus had heard of Longbottom and Potter's impassioned defense of their friend, and for once he found himself grateful for their actions. He had to admit that he was quite surprised at how well Potter had taken the news. Although it was unknown just how the boy would have reacted had Albus not softened the blow for him. 

As he took a sip of his tea, he saw her flick a length of thick, unruly hair behind her shoulder. Her behavior that morning still confused him… there had obviously been something that had startled her – the frantic clutching of her hands on his arm had reminded him of the episode in his office the other evening, as she wept out her fear and frustration against his chest. He could scarcely believe that that incident had only occurred three days before… 

With a sigh, he picked up his fork and twirled it idly in his fingers. He wondered again at the strange… affinity… he had felt for the girl over the past week. That morning, when she woke him, he had felt it strongly. A simple cursory study of the Dark Arts should not have been enough to engender such a response from him. 

His eyes narrowed in thought as he considered the young woman. She had claimed that she didn't read far in the Book of the Blood, and instinctively he had believed her claim. But, could he truly be sure? He discarded the thought almost as soon as it arose in his mind… she would definitely have shown signs of the reaction illness. Minerva spoke then, interrupting his musings. 

"She's looking well. A great deal better than she did last week, don't you think?" 

Realizing that he had been staring at Hermione the entire time – and, even worse, that he had been caught doing so - he pursed his lips together in annoyance before answering, "Indeed. I am certain that the satisfactory conclusion to her dilemma concerning her field of study has much to do with it."

Minerva chuckled slightly. "I have a feeling that something else has quite a bit more to do with it, Severus." He shot her a glance, and was irritated to see her eyes twinkling in a manner disturbingly similar to Albus'. Damned Gryffindors. 

He glowered at his plate, stabbing at his dinner with the fork rather more violently than necessary. "I'm glad you find this entire situation so amusing, Minerva." 

He was surprised to feel a hand on his arm and when he raised his head, he saw Minerva regarding him with a serious expression. "Severus – if you would, I would like to speak with you concerning this situation, as you put it. I have some concerns-"

"Of course you do, Minerva. One of your precious Gryffindors, soon to be bound to the Head of Slytherin House. I can only imagine the hissing and spitting that went on in Albus' office when he informed you," he sneered.

Minerva gave him an amused look and shook her head. In a low voice, she commented, "Well, you're rather off the mark on that one, young man. I was _relieved, _Severus." He looked at her in disbelief and she nodded her head. "I was even more relieved after I saw the two of you together this morning, and spoke with Miss Granger. However…" She paused, her face losing its amused appearance as her expression grew serious. "As I said, I have some concerns, but this isn't the most appropriate location to discuss them. May I see you tomorrow in my office? Over lunch, perhaps?" 

Severus sighed, surrendering to the inevitable. He had things to get done tomorrow, but the sooner he could relieve Minerva of her concerns and get her off of his back and out of his business the better. "Very well." Minerva gave him a satisfied nod and they both turned back to their dinners. 

His gaze shot up when he caught movement at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was leaving. The boy still seemed cowed, and didn't even glance over at the Gryffindor table as he walked past… although Snape noted that Potter was watching the blond boy with a dangerous expression in his eyes. _Ah, yes_, he thought with satisfaction. Miss Granger undoubtedly had informed Potter of Draco's earlier threats. All to the good, if it made Potter take the danger seriously. Though Draco and his two followers were foolish and inept, all three were quite capable of a passable Imperius curse. That curse was a particular talent of the Malfoy family. 

At least Dumbledore had modified the wards around the school and grounds after the fiasco surrounding the Dark Lord's return in Potter's fourth year. Portkeys that were not imbued with the Headmaster's personal signature were no longer effective on Hogwarts grounds – anyone traveling via a non-approved Portkey would be redirected to the Headmaster's office, to be dealt with as necessary. It certainly reduced the likelihood of a successful kidnapping venture, and Malfoy - as a governor of the school - was well aware of the new wards that Albus had erected.  

He would have to begin the girl's Occlumency lessons as soon as her NEWTs were completed. She would eventually have to make an appearance at one of the various social events that the Death Eaters engaged in, though he would stall as long as possible. For now, he hoped to persuade the Dark Lord that she would be too frightened, too shocked… that it would work against their carefully wrought plans to bring her before her hated enemies so soon. She had to first question her loyalties, to transfer those loyalties fully to Severus, before that could be risked. 

Her eyes suddenly lifted and met his. This time, he did not look away, and as their gazes locked he saw _something_… the same something he had seen in her eyes that morning, when she had told him that she already trusted him. Fool girl, he thought, barely holding back a sneer. She truly had no idea who she was dealing with. Although, a small voice admitted that she _could_ trust him – at least as far as her safety and protection were concerned. 

Trusting him with her emotions, on the other hand… Hermione looked away, then, and even from the distance he could see the flush suffusing her face. He sighed inwardly and took another bite of his dinner. The girl wore her emotions on her sleeve… so typical of young Gryffindors. Age tempered that tendency somewhat, as in the case of the Headmaster. But for now… she simply couldn't be counted on to falsify the necessary emotions, with or without his coaching in Occlumency. Her reactions to him had to be real, not forced, or the Dark Lord would detect it immediately. 

He thought his manipulations on that front were going well. Although he may have to step things up a bit, to ensure that the girl wasn't overly nervous when the time came to consummate their marriage. He couldn't step things up too much, of course. Despite the blatant hypocrisy of it, he knew Albus would have his head - and likely other valued parts of his anatomy - if he took the girl prior to their handfasting. Not to mention, she was an innocent… he needed to gain her trust, not scare her off. Her words from that first night rang in his ears: _One time does not a lover make, Professor. _He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with annoyance. One time… the girl may as well be a virgin, for all the experience she had had. She was even more of an innocent than he had supposed. 

Yes, he would have to begin soon, to accustom her to the preliminaries, at least… if everything were new to her on their… wedding night… it would be overwhelming to the girl, increasing her nervousness. He regretted, now, not kissing her in the Head Girl's rooms earlier that day. He had considered and then quickly discarded the idea… he had felt that it would be too soon… that it would not be _believable. _Although the look she gave him as he left McGonagall's office had caused him to speculate if that were really the case. Perhaps that evening… if the opportunity presented itself... 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. _Headache potion tonight, _he thought with a sigh. He pushed his chair back, preparing to leave, when a minor commotion at the Gryffindor table caught his attention. A nondescript brown owl was swooping along the table, flying unusually low due to the weight of the bundle strapped to its legs. 

The book-shaped bundle. 

Filled with foreboding, he watched as the owl descended in front of Miss Granger. Mechanically, her hands lifted and relieved the owl of its burden. She looked up and met his eyes, and even from this distance he could see the fear darkening them. _Krum. _With a meaningful look, he nodded towards the entrance doors and she immediately took the message. Potter and the Weasley girl stood with her and the three young people left the Great Hall. He gave it a few moments before standing and slipping out of the staff door, sweeping quickly through the Entrance Hall and down to the dungeons. 

                  *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

As she stepped through the fireplace, she saw Severus standing in the middle of the study, waiting for her. With an imperious gesture, he motioned for her to lay the bundle on the low table. She hadn't dared to open it yet, and after she laid it down she stood silently, staring at it as if it would attack her. 

"Are you planning on opening it, Miss Granger? Or were you just going to admire its beauty from afar?" The familiar sarcastic tones cut through her fear, and she looked up angrily.

"It's Hermione, _Severus. _And I thought I would let you open it, actually. If it's…" Her anger left her then, leaving her feeling strangely bereft. "If it's a… another Book of the Blood… well, you _did _tell me not to handle the other one too much…"

He shook his head. "It is very unlikely, _Hermione_, that Krum would send you another book as valuable – and rare - as that. And if you could be bothered to use that much-vaunted intellect, you would know why I do not relish the thought of opening it myself."

She stared at him for a moment before comprehension dawned. "Viktor may have charmed it to my touch alone." Snape nodded, an eyebrow raised. "Oh, all right, then." Grabbing the package, she tore it open and pulled out the book. A short piece of parchment fell from it when she held it up. "A journal?" A frown of confusion appeared on her face, quickly changing to suspicion. 

Snape held out a slender hand and she passed him the parchment, placing the journal back on the table. He read the parchment quickly and then stared down at the journal. A thin line appeared between his brows as he pulled out his wand. Murmuring a quick revealing charm, he grunted when there was no effect. His frown grew as he whispered another incantation.

This incantation had an effect. The journal glowed blood-red for a moment and Snape nodded in satisfaction, pocketing his wand. She opened her mouth to question him but was forestalled by his statement, "This could prove to be quite useful, Hermione."

"What… what is it? What was that glow… is there a charm of some sort on the journal? What was the incantation? I didn't recognize it…"

Snape snorted softly at her barrage of questions. "One at a time, please. The journal is charmed, yes. I am not quite sure what game Krum is playing, but I am concerned… I will have to watch him closely at the next meeting." He stood silently, apparently lost in thought, and Hermione had to bite her tongue to forestall the questions that wanted to burst from her mouth. Finally, he said, "Whatever you write in that journal will be immediately duplicated in its twin. I can only assume that the linked journal is in Krum's possession, although…" Again, he trailed off. Hermione waited patiently for him to continue, but he never did.

"Although what?"

"It is of no matter. The incantation, to answer your final – I hope – question… it is a stronger revealing charm than any you have studied. Unless it is in one of those books that our friend Mr. Krum sent you previously."

"It's a Dark spell?" Hermione asked. Snape nodded absently, sinking down onto the couch, still looking at the journal speculatively. 

"After a fashion… like calls to like." She frowned, confused by that statement, but he continued before she could ask him to explain. "The duplication charm was hidden underneath a Dark spell… a cloaking spell, I suppose you could call it."

"How can it prove useful?" Snape remained silent, flicking his eyes to hers. He raised one eyebrow slowly, and Hermione sucked in a breath and said, "You think he's spying on me… on us… don't you?"

"The timing is rather suspect."

She nodded and moved to the couch, sitting down next to him. "You're thinking that we can… feed him information… false information?" 

"Ah. So I see you are not completely without deviousness," Snape said dryly.

"Not completely, no." At this comment, Snape shot her an amused glance. She smiled at him and then looked back at the journal. "What should I do? Should I write him back?"

Snape thought for a moment and then nodded reluctantly. "Just a short note. Let him know you are studying for your NEWTs and will write more next week… and thank him, of course, for the _lovely _gift," Snape said, sneering as he said the last words. 

Hermione nodded. "That sounds good. I don't think I could come up with any convincing… devious words… to write in it at the moment. There's a lot going on this week as it is… between my NEWTs and the… the ceremony…"

"Yes," Snape said, not looking at her. "In fact… there are… certain arrangements… which must be taken care of for the handfasting ceremony. Are you familiar-" 

"I know. Minerva said she would take me to Diagon Alley on Wednesday. I guess there's more to a handfasting than I thought." She stared down at her lap, biting her lip. She still couldn't believe it was really happening… 

"It is rather more involved than it initially appears from the outside, yes. But not too complicated, particularly with a guide to assist you. I am… pleased… that Minerva has offered her services."

Hermione shook her head and glanced up at him. He was watching her with a level gaze, and she felt bold enough to confess, "I never paid attention to the requirements, before… I didn't think it would become an issue for me for a long time. A very long time…" her voice trailed off uncertainly. 

"Hermione…" the silky tones of his voice caused her heart to speed its rhythm. He took her hands in his and gazed down at her intently, an unreadable look in his black eyes. "I am aware that this is not the most… ideal… situation for either of us. But I do promise you that I will do whatever I can to make it as… painless… as possible. Trust me." He had bent his head towards her as he spoke, and she licked her lips unconsciously. 

In a shaky voice, she whispered. "I told you earlier – I do trust you… but… thank you, still." 

That familiar calculating expression appeared on his face, but it was gone even before she could begin to analyze it. Gone, and replaced with another expression entirely. An expression which made her mind go numb, unable to remember to breathe, much less analyze anything. Her breath froze in her lungs, and she watched him with wide eyes as he spoke.  

"Hermione…" He leaned over slowly, very slowly… slow enough that she could pull away without embarrassment, but she didn't want to pull away… no, she didn't want to pull away at all… 

Her eyes drifted shut as he brushed his lips against hers… softly… so very softly… his lips were warm, smooth… he pressed them against hers once, twice… a chaste pressure, but so much more to her mind…

She was swimming, floating… enjoying the chaste kisses that had her head whirling far more than any so-called passionate kiss she had ever experienced. She leaned into him, her hands tightening in his, an excited flutter in her stomach accompanying the answering pressure of his fingers against hers.  

They pulled back slowly, and she kept her eyes closed for a time. When she finally opened them, she saw him watching her with that calculating gaze again… and a strange feeling of uncertainty stole over her. He seemed to sense this, and pulled one hand away from hers to stroke her cheek silently. Her eyes fluttered closed once more, and she heard him murmur, "I will do what I can."

When she woke the next morning, her cheek was resting on his chest. His bare chest. She tried to back away, startled, only to find that he had one arm wrapped around her, holding her to his side. The bedcovers still separated their bodies, although his had been pushed down, giving her a pleasing view of his torso. One of her arms was draped over his chest and she watched, enthralled, as it rise and fell with each of his breaths. She watched it for a time, allowing her mind to wander…

She could clearly remember the light touch of his lips on hers the night before, and even that innocent contact made her blood sing in memory. With that kind of reaction to a simple kiss, she wondered what would it be like to… to sleep with him? To make love… if it could be called that, in the situation they found themselves in. She was unaccountably nervous at the thought… he was a _man, _not a teenaged boy, and certainly more experienced than she was… could she handle it? She would have to, she supposed. It had been pleasant - nice, even - with Ron… but awkward, also, both of them new to the act itself. It had hurt, but not as badly as some of the more dramatic girls had claimed. What would it be like, to be with someone that wasn't as inexperienced as she was? To be with someone that wasn't Ron?

_Did you know your name was the last thing that passed his lips?_

She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back the tears. At least this morning the books weren't calling her quite so strongly… perhaps because she was anchored by the feel of strong arms around her, by the rise and fall of a strong chest under her cheek. She would be glad when they both slept in the same bed… the arm she had curled under her was getting lost in the gap between the two mattresses, but she didn't want to move. She sighed and snuggled closer to him, loath to give up the contact, and pretended to sleep until he woke. 

Finally, his breathing changed and she could sense that he was waking up. Before she could move from her position, she felt his eyes on the top of her head. She wondered how unruly her hair had gotten as she slept and hoped it wasn't too ridiculous.  "Hermione…" his voice was still gravelly from sleep, and she smiled against his chest. "You are awake, aren't you?"

"Yes. Just resting." 

"I see." Silence then. "Far be it for me to interrupt your rest, but I believe we both have tasks which we must see to this morning?"

"I suppose," she said, running her finger lightly along the long thin scar on his breastbone. His fingers suddenly clamped around her wrist, stalling the movement. She raised her head to meet his eyes, and stammered, "I'm… I'm sorry…" He gave her a cool look before nodding curtly. 

They untangled themselves awkwardly and Hermione disappeared into the bathroom to quickly wash up. She was confused. Sometimes he seemed so… different… and then he reverted back to type. She shook her head. _A complicated man, indeed, Minerva_, she thought dryly. At least it wouldn't get boring.

After a short time she was dressed and ready to depart. Remembering something at the last moment, she paused at the entrance to the fireplace and turned to face him. He was pulling on his teaching robes, preparing to leave for breakfast. 

"Um – Severus? Lavender, Parvati, and Ginny want to talk to me tonight…"

"I was under the impression that you were talking with them at meals," he commented.

Hermione sighed. "Lavender and Parvati want to corner me for a girls' night, I think. Trust me – it's easier to just go along with them than to fight it… the earlier I get it over with, the better. I was originally going to arrange a time on Friday after my NEWTs, but they may drive me insane before then." Snape gave a noncommittal grunt at that statement, straightening the sleeves of his robes. Forging ahead, she said, "I thought tonight would be good. Harry said he would escort us from dinner to the Head Girl's rooms. I'm assuming that's acceptable?"

"Asking my permission, Miss Granger? That is a pleasant change of pace," he drawled. 

"Don't get used to it," Hermione shot back quickly, frowning. "It's just until after the handfasting."

He smirked in response. Her breath caught at the way it made him look… dangerous… _sexy_… "Hmm. I will enjoy it while it lasts, then." After he spoke the words, the smile melted from his face and he gave her a sharp look. "Floo myself, or Minerva if you prefer, should you have any desire to go elsewhere… such as the Common Room."

"Should I just bring them here instead?"

He shook his head quickly, frowning. "We are trying to be discreet, if you recall, Miss Granger. We can afford no hints of impropriety." She smiled inwardly, thinking of his kisses the evening before. Would that be considered an act of impropriety? He raised a mocking eyebrow at her, and she wondered for a fleeting moment if he had sensed her thoughts. "The rooms are quite safe. I have already placed strong wards on the entrance as a precaution. As did Albus." 

"That's good, but I think Harry's planning on standing outside, actually." She had laughed at his overprotectiveness when Harry had suggested it, and was therefore startled by the serious nod that Severus gave her.   

"Good. Even so, leave through the floo before the other girls exit the room, Hermione." She nodded absently and was surprised when he reached out to grip her arm urgently. He gave her an unyielding look, and she swallowed in trepidation. "The danger is real – didn't Malfoy's little act yesterday morning teach you that? I want you to be careful." He moved closer to her, an unreadable look in his eyes.  

Forcing the words from her dry throat, she said, "I will be." 

"Be sure of it," he commanded, a touch of his hand on hers softening the tone of his warning. She drew in a shuddering breath and stared into his eyes, watching as he drifted towards her and lightly brushed her lips with his in yet another chaste kiss. "Until this evening, then, Miss Granger."

Trying to regain her balance, she muttered, "It's Hermione."

Again, that devastatingly sexy smirk. "I know." 

                  *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

"She is young, Severus. An innocent. I know you're more accustomed to a… certain _type _of woman…"

Snape threw Minerva an irritated look. He had come, as requested, to her office during the lunch period... and already she was annoying him.  Sarcastically, he said, "An innocent? Is that right? How very upsetting to find out this information. Well, then, I suppose I'll have to pack away the manacles and leather straps. Such a pity." _Did the woman think him an imbecile? Or blind?_ He blew out an exasperated breath. "I am not going to damage the girl, Minerva. Please desist your nattering."

McGonagall pursed her lips, patently annoyed with his sarcastic answer. "You know very well what I meant, Severus."

"I assure you I am not planning on using any Death Eater seduction tactics on the girl, Minerva," Severus snapped. "I may even decide to skip the blood mating ritual. But – if you have other concerns - do enlighten me."

"She's not a girl, Severus," McGonagall said. Severus eyed her sharply. "And I think you need to bear that in mind. I'm not interested in the physical aspect of your… _relationship_… other than to say that you may be surprised on that score – Gryffindors aren't known for being shying lilies-" she gave a small smile when Snape rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes, Severus – I have indulged in a bit of… manacles and leather straps, you said? Yes… I quite enjoyed it." 

Severus blanched at the inadvertent mental image that statement produced. As if reading his mind, Minerva let out a surprisingly youthful peal of laughter. "Oh, Severus – if you could see your face! Did you really think only a certain _type_ enjoys such things?" Severus stared at her incredulously. "Though I will admit that it may be a bit much for Miss Granger to deal with right away. She isn't our most experienced seventh year, after all." Severus snorted at that. 

"No – I believe Misses Brown and Patil jointly bear that title."

Minerva was quick to point out, "Don't forget your own house, Severus… I'm sure Miss Parkinson could give them some competition." He didn't respond. He would bet Galleons that Miss Parkinson would win the competition hands down. "But in all seriousness, Severus… I'm not concerned about the physical aspect, as I'm sure you have that well in hand, so to speak." She ignored the glare he sent her and continued, "However, I _am_ concerned about the emotional aspect." She stopped then, looking down at her hands for a moment before sighing and continuing, "Severus… you're exactly the type of man a naïve young woman could easily fall for. Your aloofness, your confidence… even your rude demeanor… more than one innocent has fallen for the… dare I say it… _bad boy image." _

He sneered at the comment, shaking his head in disgust. Minerva eyed him challengingly. "Scoff if you wish, Severus, but I know more about women than you do. About women's _emotions_," she amended quickly, seeing him open his mouth. He subsided with a smirk. "I just don't want to see her get hurt, not after everything else she's been through. Be careful with her. Please."

Minerva was perceptive.

"I will take your advice into consideration," Severus said slowly. "But mark me, Minerva… I will do what I must to keep the girl – the _young woman_ – alive and out of the Dark Lord's hands. If her emotions must be tapped for this subterfuge to be successful, then that is what I will do." He paused a moment, considering his counterpart silently. "And I must ask you not to interfere."

Minerva looked uncomfortable, but he held her gaze unblinkingly and eventually she nodded. "I understand, Severus… and I'm not without sympathy for your position, you know."

"Why am I so very certain that there is a _but _in here somewhere…" Severus muttered sardonically. Minerva shot him a quelling glance.

"_But_-" she ignored Severus' smirk "-the child has been in my House, under my protection, for seven years. I can't help but be concerned for her welfare – physical and otherwise." The Deputy Headmistress sighed, staring out the window. "Just… do what you can. Please."  

"Of course," he said soothingly. The earnest concern in her eyes swayed him, and he stood from his chair, pacing back and forth. "Minerva… I will make the girl… I will make _Hermione_ no promises, or declarations that are not true. And as you know, I have no real control over her emotions, in the end… despite any attempts to influence them. I will do what I must, but no more than that." Minerva nodded and let out a small sigh. Looking at her, he shook his head in defeat. He would do what he must. Moving back to the chair, he collapsed into it and gave her a weary gaze. "Now – did you have any other pearls of wisdom to bestow upon me?"

"No wisdom, just some questions." Severus' lips twisted, causing her to chuckle. "None that will be too painful, Severus. I assume the handfasting will be Saturday, from what Albus said? The sooner the better, with Mr. Malfoy sniffing around." Snape nodded, and she continued brusquely, "Well, then. I've arranged to accompany Miss Granger to Diagon Alley tomorrow to gather the items she will need-"

"So she said. And, before you begin prying – allow me to inform you that I have already arranged to go during my free period this afternoon." McGonagall raised an eyebrow at him, waiting. "What more do you want to hear, Minerva? It's all arranged. Albus will perform the ceremony, of course, and it will occur Saturday morning. I believe he's arranged for a _celebratory _feast afterwards, and then…"

"And then, you will do what you must," McGonagall finished in a gentle voice. 

"Precisely."

                  *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

At dinner that evening, Hermione couldn't keep her eyes from her fiancé. She tried to be secretive with her glances, but their eyes met too often for him not to have noticed. Then again, she realized, in order for their eyes to meet as often as they had, he had to have been watching her, also. Each time their eyes locked, a sharp jolt of excitement sped through her body, and she couldn't help but smile shyly at him once. His slight answering nod warmed her, and her mind turned to the kisses he had given her the previous evening and that morning. Her mind had replayed the kiss - the kisses, rather - all day, generally at the most inopportune moments. Such as when she was attempting to practice a rather involved Arithmancy problem, or when she was attempting to pay attention to the nonsense that Lavender and Parvati were prattling on about. 

"Hermione!" The indignant voice cut through her musing, and she turned back to Lavender with what she knew was a guilty look. A guilty look that quickly changed to irritation when she caught the knowing glance shared by the two girls seated across from her.  "That's it – we need to talk. You're done, right?" 

Hermione sighed and nodded, pushing her plate away. Ginny gave her a pitying look, a small smile playing on the redhead's lips. "Come on, then." With Harry escorting, the girls left the Great Hall. 

Safely ensconced in the Head Girl's rooms a short time later, Lavender and Parvati began speaking at once. "All right – tell us all about it. Has he kissed you?"

"What made you pick him, really?"

"It was what we said the other week, wasn't it?"

"Have you seen him without the robes?"

"I can't believe you're marrying Snape!"

Hermione groaned inwardly. "I can only answer one question at a time, girls. Look – you know why I picked him. There wasn't much choice… I couldn't… I couldn't afford to let someone else be…" her voice trailed off as she looked at Ginny with tears in her eyes. Lavender and Parvati had the grace to look abashed. 

"We're sorry, Hermione… we know why you picked him. It's… we're not… listen, we miss Ron, too. We know how close you were…"

"But you didn't love him." The low, calm voice startled everyone, and they all turned to stare at Ginny. The redhead's eyes never left Hermione's. "You didn't love him, not like that, at least. He knew. You shouldn't feel guilty, Hermione. If you can be happy… that's what he would want. You know that."

Hermione looked down at her hands. "I… I don't know if that's possible, right now…"

"Is Snape that bad? I mean, he's pretty nasty in class and all, but I thought… if you're married to him, he can't be mean _all _the time, can he?" Parvati said, her brows furrowed in concern. 

Hermione shook her head. "No, he's not bad… I mean, he's still Snape, but he's also… well, he's also _Severus_, you know? He's trying. I can tell… this isn't easy for him, either."

"Why did he do it, then? Didn't he send you the proposal?" Parvati asked, frowning.

"Dumbledore asked him, didn't he?" Ginny spoke again in a low voice. Hermione nodded reluctantly. 

"Oh, wow," Lavender breathed. "So he didn't… I thought he just wanted a young wife, you know. And you've got brains…"

Hermione shook her head. "He's doing it to protect me, girls. He's Head of Slytherin… besides Professor Dumbledore, there really isn't anyone else that could keep me safe… that could keep _himself _safe, from the Malfoys. From… from Voldemort."

There was silence for a time, and then Parvati smiled knowingly. "Well, he may be doing it as a favor, but he's getting something out of it, too… I've seen how he looks at you at mealtimes. He's attracted to you, Hermione."

Hermione's head shot up at that. "Do you think so?" Instantly, she berated herself for showing such weakness in front of those two. But rather than mocking her, they both nodded seriously. 

"He does, Hermione. How could he not? You're young, not bad looking… could use some makeup, and if you did something with that hair… but then again, he's not exactly in a place to criticize about anyone's hair," Lavender said sensibly. 

Parvati grinned. "I bet he's pretty experienced. Mum said he ran with a pretty wild crowd when he was younger…" Hermione barely held back a snort. _If she only knew…_She carefully avoided looking at Ginny. 

Lavender smiled wickedly. "Just imagine, if he's as good with that tongue in bed as he is when he's insulting students…" 

"Lavender!" Hermione gasped, shocked. She bit her lip, thinking… 

Parvati's eyes grew wide as she watched Hermione. "Oh, Gods… you're not a virgin, right?" Hermione shook her head slowly. "How much are you not a virgin? Did you and Viktor ever…" Hermione shook her head quickly at that, and Parvati grinned. "So, you and Ron, right?"

"Once." Her words sounded hollow, even to her own ears. She looked at Ginny guiltily and opened her mouth to explain, but Ginny cut her off.

"I knew about it, Hermione. Ron told me, that next morning." Ginny smiled tremulously. "At least he didn't die a virgin, right? That's what he was always worried about…" 

Parvati and Lavender shared another look. Lavender turned to face Hermione and said, "All right… so, you and Ron did, right after the marriage proposal went through? He was your only one? That was the only time?" Hermione nodded. "Wow. Snape's… well, he's a _man_, Hermione… not a teenager… are you sure…" Hearing her own worries repeated back to her was not helping her anxiety over the situation. 

"What choice do I have?" An uncomfortable silence fell, then. 

Finally, Parvati spoke up. "It'll be fine, Hermione… I'm sure he knows… and, I mean, it's not a bad thing. He's experienced, so he knows what to do… it'll be good for you."

Lavender nodded. "Better than dealing with teen fumbling."

"Just look at the way he moves… Gods, the man exudes sex, doesn't he, Lavender?" Lavender nodded, and Hermione blushed. "And that whole mean, angry thing… that's pretty sexy. Not everyone sees it, but…"

"This is really strange… he's my fiancé, you know. Should I even be listening to this?" 

"It's girl talk, Hermione," Parvati chided. Ginny rolled her eyes, causing Hermione to grin. 

"Well, I think I've got to call it a night on this talk. I need to study for my NEWTs still, and poor Harry's probably getting pretty bored standing out in the hallway." 

The other three girls nodded and stood. "We'll have to talk to you after your handfasting, and find out how it went," Parvati said with a smile. Hermione flushed and shrugged. 

"Maybe… I don't know. That's kind of private." Parvati and Lavender rolled their eyes and headed for the door, Ginny trailing along behind them. 

He's a man, Hermione… not a teenager… are you sure… 

Now she had another set of worries invading her mind. With a sigh, she tossed the floo powder into the fireplace and stepped through.

___________________________________________________________

A/N: Whew. Another long chapter. I hope you enjoyed it! For those who are waiting (im)patiently, the handfasting will occur in the next chapter. Can't promise the post-nuptials will make it in, but they will be in Chapter 12 if not in 11. As always, pleeez review!! 

The Perfectly Imperfect – Thank you – I'm glad you liked the clicking. I may try to incorporate the log analogy later on – thanks!

Serpens Potio – Thank you – more Severus for you in this chapter, I hope you liked it. Again – my sincere promise to not Hufflepuff Severus ;).

Moi – Wedding next chapter, wedding night either next chapter or the one after… hang in there! At least a little smoochin' going on in this chappie, right?

Chantal9 – Thank you so much – I'm glad you appreciate the pacing. And yes, while I do enjoy reading Good!Draco fics, I just have a hard time writing him as anything other than an evil, sadistic, spoiled brat…

Dakota – Thank you for reviewing! No, no mushy Snapes appearing here… 

Electryone – The inexperienced!Snape wouldn't work in my storyline… I also have a hard time buying it. His body movements, as described by JKR, make me think that _something _happened between adolescence (twitchy, jerky movements) and "now" (sweeping in and out of rooms, etc) to make him more confident at least physically. I'm glad you enjoyed the addition of the Call, and I hope enjoyed the other chapters!

AngelofLight72 – Thank you for the review! 

Anarane Anwamane, Denise Ruth, Arafel2, Jana, Babygidgurl, Selene,  – Thanks for reviewing!! 


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize (i.e. the Call of the Blood) is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.    
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 11

~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Hermione sighed, frustrated. She was trying to study for her NEWTs, but all she could think about was the feel of his lips on hers, interspersed with memories of the talk with the girls the evening before. 

_Just imagine, if he's as good with that tongue in bed as he is when he's insulting students…_

She gave a loud groan and slammed the Charms book shut, holding her head in her hands until her elbows grew sore from being propped against the floor. When she glanced up at the clock, she saw that it was less than a half an hour before she was to meet Minerva. _Not much point trying to get back to it now… by the time I get my mind on track it'll be time to leave, _she realized. Normally she had no trouble immersing herself in her studies, but with everything that was happening… Perhaps after she returned from the trip with Minerva she would be more relaxed and better able to concentrate with the weight of the preparations, at least, off of her shoulders.  

A half an hour. Well, until then, she'd just relax for a while. She rolled over and laid her head back against the carpet, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She didn't even notice when the first tendrils of _need _started to prickle her senses, but as she allowed her mind to wander freely it inexorably led her to the images she had tried to forget and the need blossomed and took her over.

_Oh my God… Hermione, don't look! No, don't look!_

_They will pay. I will make them pay. _ 

With a gasp, she sat upright. She could feel the pull of the books once more, not quite as strongly as the other morning, but still there… the _need _singing in her blood... She sat, arguing with herself for a time. _It's not worth it_, she chanted silently. An answering voice in her mind said, _What's__ the harm? They aren't Books of the Blood, after all. _

_What if Severus walks in? _

_He's in class right now. And if he does walk in, I can just tell him I'm looking for the revealing charm he used on the journal. _

Why not use what was at her disposal? Just reading from the simpler texts… what could be the harm? She was strong; they all told her that… wasn't that why Voldemort wanted her so badly? She could resist easily enough, especially since she had been forewarned about the true dangers… She would just learn a little more, enough to have _something _at hand if the opportunity should arise. Yes, she would learn just a little more… that had to be safe enough, with the Call not a factor… just a little more…

It wasn't until her fingers touched the smooth leather cover of the first book that she realized she was sitting on the floor in the bedroom, the trunk in front of her open. 

_Every step seems but a small one. _

Shaking her head resolutely, she picked both of the books out of the trunk and went to her wardrobe. Standing on her toes, she reached up to the top shelf and pushed a pile of her summer clothes to the side, sliding the books back against the rear wall of the wardrobe, out of sight. Then she pulled the pile of clothes back and arranged it in front of the books. 

Satisfied, she closed the door of the wardrobe firmly and sat on the long bench in front of the vanity table that Severus had placed in the room. Severus. She touched her lips unconsciously and smiled a little as she sat in front of the mirror… when she had thanked him for adding the piece of furniture to the room he had made some snide remark about women and their endless primping. She grinned as she recalled his terse words: _I thought it a necessity if I should ever want to have access to my bathroom in the mornings, Hermione. _ 

In a more content mood, she picked up her hairbrush. She needed to look presentable if she were going to Diagon Alley.   

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

A short time later, she and Minerva were walking along Diagon Alley. They had just left Gringott's, where Hermione had withdrawn ample supply of Galleons from her vault. After her parents had died, the Ministry was appointed her guardian in the Muggle world and – since she was of age in the Wizarding world - had transferred all of the property and converted Muggle money to her Gringott's vault. She fingered the purse in the pocket of her robes as she listened to Minerva describe the basic outline of the handfasting ceremony. 

Minerva paused in her monologue and Hermione asked, "So, we don't see each other's cords or rings before the ceremony, then?" It was a rather comforting thought… it reminded Hermione of the Muggle custom to not allow the groom to see the bride's wedding dress prior to the wedding.

Minerva smiled and nodded. "Or the clothes that you will wear. It's tradition."

"I think it's a nice idea. Muggles do the same thing, with the clothes, at least. Usually they pick out the rings together, though." 

Minerva glanced at her. "It can be rather exciting, really - it sometimes comes as quite a shock to see what the other person has chosen. You will each bring two cords – it's traditional to use four cords. Some couples have taken to using six cords or more, but that's seen as rather tacky, to be honest. Choosing only two forces you to think more deeply about what you're bringing to the union."

Hermione shook her head and stared straight ahead. "I'm not sure what I'm bringing to it, other than a burden to him, really." She glanced over at McGonagall. In a wry voice, she asked, "Is there a color that signifies that? Or one that signifies _help in your spy duties_?" The last was said in a low voice so that only Minerva could hear.

Minerva put a hand on her arm, stopping her. "Miss Granger. Hermione. I think you'll find you have quite a bit more to offer him than a _burden_." Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow. "Don't downplay the importance of companionship. He trusts very few people, but… if I may say so, Hermione… I think you very well could become someone that he trusts." Hermione shook her head slightly in disbelief, and Minerva said softly, "Hermione – there is no one else who can even come close to understanding the man. You two have something in common that I will not speak of openly here… but it is very significant that Severus won't feel as if you're judging him. No matter how often Albus or I assure him that we do not, I'm certain he doesn't believe."

Hermione was silent. What Minerva said made sense… she felt that way about him, after all… Minerva nodded sharply and they continued their walk. "Now, when we get to Madam Malkin's I will explain the significances of each color again. But first…" Minerva trailed off and led her into a small shop. "The ring." 

Hermione was grateful for Professor McGonagall's presence as the older witch explained to the proprietor what they were looking for. The short man disappeared underneath the counter for a few moments and then stood with a large empty tray in his hands. "What kind of metal, Miss?"

Hermione thought for a moment. She didn't really see him as someone who would wear gold well, and the metal was notoriously vulnerable to damage from potions ingredients. Silver would react with too many potions, particularly the Wolfsbane that Severus brewed for Remus each month. "Platinum, I think." Minerva nodded her head in agreement.

With a wave of his wand, the tray was filled with a variety of platinum rings. She looked them over, dismissing a number of them immediately as unsuitable… she really didn't see Severus Snape wearing a ring with gemstones on it. Then, her eyes caught a ring near the center of the tray. It was quite simple at first glance, but when she lifted the ring from the tray, the light from the window hit it and revealed an elegant set of Celtic symbols subtly engraved on the surface.

"You have a good eye for subtleties, Miss. An excellent choice," the proprietor said. Hermione glanced over at McGonagall and, seeing the older woman's approval, she smiled and nodded, handing the ring over to be wrapped. 

As they walked to Madam Malkin's, Minerva commented, "I have to say again, Hermione – you have more maturity and taste than other girls your age. That was an excellent choice, knowing Severus as I do." 

Hermione smiled. "I've got to admit that I was tempted to get him a gold ring with a nice big ruby on it, but he might've thrown it at me." Minerva chuckled with approval. 

"That I would have liked to see – Severus Snape wearing Gryffindor colors… but I'm afraid gold wouldn't do anything for his skin tone."

"I suppose not… and it's too weak for potions work," Hermione said as she followed Minerva through the door to Madam Malkin's. The store was quite empty and Madam Malkin appeared immediately, a smile blooming on her face when she saw Minerva.

"Professor McGonagall! So nice to see you – are you in need of some dress robes, perhaps?"

Minerva shook her head. "No, not this time, Madam Malkin. Miss Granger, here, has a handfasting ceremony to prepare for this weekend." Hermione smiled at the other woman's sudden scrutiny.

"A handfasting? Wonderful, wonderful! Well – come along, then – let's see what we can find for you." Madam Malkin moved towards the back of the store and Hermione followed at Minerva's urging. "Are you looking for something traditional or are you one of those… modern types?" The woman's tone left no doubt in Hermione's mind as to her opinion of 'those modern types.'

"Traditional, please, Madam Malkin. She is joining with an old pureblood family," Minerva said. 

"Indeed?" Madam Malkin looked at her sharply then turned to one of the large wardrobes and waved her wand. When the wardrobe opened, Hermione could see that it was filled with gowns and cloaks of every color. 

"Goodness… all those colors are traditional?" she couldn't stop herself from saying. When Madam Malkin gave her a strange look, she clarified, "Well, Muggles usually just wear white or ivory…" She trailed off, looking at Minerva pleadingly. 

Minerva smiled. "White, then… Ivory wouldn't suit your coloring." 

Madam Malkin nodded and with another wave of her wand, the other colors disappeared from the wardrobe. Minerva stepped forward and began to go through the gowns with quick flicks of her wand. She paused at one rather lovely gown for a moment before shaking her head. 

"That one's nice," Hermione said. Minerva glanced over at her and nodded.

"Yes, it is, and it would suit you well… but the fabric is too thin. You're built a bit curvier than most… and with no underthings you'll need more support up top."

"No… underthings?" Hermione repeated. 

Madam Malkin shot her a look and nodded. "I take it you haven't attended a handfasting before? No underthings, no shoes, no glamours or other magical preparations… It's tradition, bringing you one with nature, and avoiding an interruption in the natural flow of magic during the ceremony."

"Tradition," Hermione echoed numbly. _No bra? _Minerva continued to sort through the dresses and she moved to stand beside the older woman. "How about that one?" It was a long flowing gown with delicate silver embroidery along the hem. The top appeared to have a second layer of thicker material, and while it was sleeveless the shoulder straps were thick enough to actually lend some support while still giving an elegant look. 

Madam Malkin pulled the gown out of the wardrobe and Hermione loved the way the fabric flowed – some sort of silky material, but thick enough to not be see-through. "Yes… I think this will be quite lovely. Here-" With a wave of the shop owner's wand Hermione's regular robes disappeared and were replaced by the gown. A frown of concentration on her face, Madam Malkin moved her wand over the material, adjusting the fit. Finally she stepped back and both she and Minerva gazed at her admiringly. 

"Perfect," Minerva said. "Come and see…" Taking Hermione's hand, she led her in front of the mirrors. When she caught sight of herself, she couldn't help but smile. The gown _was _perfect… the bodice hugged her curves without looking indecent, the waist was closely fitted and the skirt of the gown flared out gently just below it, the white fabric swirling beautifully as she moved. She turned and saw that it scooped gracefully to the middle of her back where three pearl buttons held it in place.  

"Perfect," she echoed. Madam Malkin brought her the matching white cloak, also embroidered along the hem with delicate silver stitching. "I'll definitely get this set." 

They spent more time in Madam Malkin's while Hermione chose the two cord colors… Minerva's tutoring in the meanings of each ringing in her ears. As Madam Malkin wrapped her purchases, Minerva said quietly, "Well done, Miss Granger. You chose well."

Hermione didn't answer immediately, instead taking the package from Madam Malkin and handing over the necessary Galleons. As they exited the store, she spoke. "Thank you, Minerva. For all of your help." 

"You're quite welcome, my dear. Now… I think we should stop and get some lunch before returning, don't you, Hermione?" Hermione agreed quickly, the rumbling in her stomach reminding her that she hadn't eaten much that day. A short time later, they were seated in the Leaky Cauldron, hungrily attacking their meals. Eventually, the subject of discussion turned, inevitably, to Severus.

"He was awkward, painfully awkward, as a teenager," Minerva said, her eyes distant as she recalled Severus' school days. "I was pleasantly surprised – shocked, even - when he returned to teach. He was definitely not awkward any longer… he had become confident in his own body, I think… and he cut a very impressive figure. He still does. Who would have believed that that twitchy teenager would gain such a fluidity of movement…" Hermione swallowed hard… it was one of the things she found most enthralling about him. Minerva nodded. "He learned a true sensuality of movement – it's a real thing of beauty to see him in a duel."

Hermione nodded. "I didn't find him remotely appealing at the time, but when he dueled Lockhart back in my second year… even I noticed that." Minerva grinned wickedly.

"I heard about the incident… I only wish I had been able to attend. I understand it was quite a sight." 

"Well, like I said, I didn't really appreciate it at the time.  I had that silly crush on Lockhart…"

"As did most of the young women that year," Minerva said, shaking her head. Hermione shrugged. 

"I was twelve, what can I say." She paused a moment before gathering the courage to ask, "Has he always… had that _voice_?"

Minerva sat back with a small smile. "He does have a mesmerizing voice, doesn't he? It owes equal parts to nature and practice. Oh, it was there – the raw material, when he was a student… but when he left Hogwarts it really blossomed, became polished… like I said, he was trained well. I obviously can't condone the method of his learning, but no one can deny its benefits. It just goes to prove that no experience is entirely negative." 

Hermione understood the double-layered meaning in Minerva's final comment, and she nodded slowly. _No experience is entirely negative…_ The Marriage Law, being forced to choose between her Professor and Draco Malfoy… no, even that wasn't _entirely_ negative. Far more negative than positive, of course… but there were a few bright spots. She was getting to know Severus, she supposed. At times, he seemed quite different from the man she knew in the classroom. "It almost… it almost seems sometimes, that he's… I don't know. A different person? I guess everyone is. It's just hard to… to reconcile the Professor Snape I knew in the classroom with _Severus_, I guess."

Minerva appeared to consider her response carefully. "We are all different people in different situations, Hermione. The essence remains the same, however."

Hermione snorted. "Then I suppose his essence is _snarky_. That seems to stay no matter what."

Minerva smiled. "Yes, Severus without his sarcasm just isn't Severus, is he? Or without his little fits of temper."

Hermione frowned. "I wonder what it will be like, really living with him. He does have an awful temper… he's been pretty good this past week, but I'm sure that over time he'll get over that." Minerva chuckled in agreement. Hermione sighed. "Well, at least he keeps his response to it under control. Usually." 

The older witch eyed her a moment before saying, "I feel confident that you can handle his temper, Hermione. And if you can't, you can always fall back on the… how should I put this? Typical female persuasion techniques."

"I don't think crying will have any effect on him, Minerva." Hermione gave her a sad smile. "It's what Mum used to do when Daddy…" Her voice trailed off. Giving herself a little shake, she added in a brisk tone, "I don't think tears would sway Professor Snape."

"No, definitely not. That would just irritate him… every man is different in that regard. And, as a teacher, we run into a fair number of crying young people… it loses its novelty rather quickly, I'm afraid," Minerva said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Just keep in mind that he's still a man, Hermione." 

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, curious.

"There's one thing most men are vulnerable to… you're a lovely young woman, Hermione - use it to your advantage." 

Hermione felt her cheeks go pink at the insinuation. She shook her head quickly, stammering, "He's… I… I don't think that would work for me." 

"Why ever not?" 

"He's… I'm… well, he's a lot more experienced than I am," she said in a rush, fiddling with her fork. _That's definitely an understatement…_

Minerva raised her eyebrows. "Well, then you would have the element of surprise on your side, wouldn't you?" Hermione shrugged weakly and Minerva eyed her keenly. "Are you nervous?" She nodded, not trusting her voice. Minerva's eyes softened as she said, "I realize that this is easier said than done, but try not to be, Hermione. He will take care of you… and once you're more comfortable with everything, you can take the lead on occasion." 

Hermione felt her cheeks go from pink to scalding red. Minerva eyed her questioningly and Hermione said, "I just can't believe I'm discussing me and my ex-Potions Master's future sex life with my ex-Transfiguration professor, is all."

Minerva just laughed.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

The rest of that day and the next were spent immersed in her books, studying furiously for the NEWTs. She still felt the pull of the Dark Arts books, but the urgency of only having two days left to study overshadowed everything else. Friday morning she woke before dawn, as she had the previous morning, and crawled out of bed after carefully untangling herself from Severus. She had gotten better at moving around without waking him. After a quick wash, she slipped out of the bedroom and into the study, seating herself at his desk and opening her books. She still had a couple of hours before the tests, and she wanted to do as much reviewing as she could. 

She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting there, eyes roaming over her textbooks, before she heard a low voice ask, "Would you object to dining in the rooms today, Hermione? I'm afraid I don't trust Malfoy… he is likely to have heard by now that the handfasting – and the casting of the Fidelity charm – is scheduled for tomorrow." Dumbledore had delayed requesting the Ministry presence until the evening before in order to throw off any plans that Malfoy may have had. 

Hermione looked up and nodded in agreement. "That's fine… it'll give me more time to study this morning." She saw Severus sneer, and she put down her quill impatiently. "What?"

"I told you, Hermione, you could have passed those tests without picking up a textbook all week," he said irritably, stepping over to the fireplace to floo the kitchens. 

She shrugged. "Maybe. But I want to do well on them, not just pass them. Let me have my little quirks – Merlin knows you have enough of your own," she bit out. Belatedly she realized what she had said and she looked up quickly, intent on apologizing, until she saw the fleeting smile cross his face. 

"Very well. I will inform Potter that his…services… are not required today."

She nodded absently, already looking back at her textbooks. When breakfast arrived, she began to rise from the chair but sank back down at Snape's imperious gesture. "I am allowing you your little… quirk… Miss Granger. Here," he said, bringing the tray to the desk. When she thanked him, he waved his hand negligently. "I will see you this evening, then? Do try not to spill anything on my desk."

She grinned. "Yes, sir," she said mockingly. 

"I rather like the sound of that… you have become far too disrespectful in your mode of address," he said, smirking. _Damned sexy smirk.__ I bet he knows it, too. _"Or is this yet another thing that I should not get used to?"

"That last bit you said about covers it," she said. He nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

"As I thought," he said, bending over the desk to brush his lips against hers. She leaned into the contact, inwardly both cursing and blessing him for it… how was she supposed to get any studying done if he kept doing things like that? Being… _charming_… and kissing her? "Goodbye, then, Hermione. And good luck." With that, he swept out of the rooms. Shaking her head, she bent back over her books and tried to forget the brief exchange as she studied and ate.

Hours later, she stepped out of the fireplace, exhausted. The tests had been grueling, but she thought she had done well on them. Two of the examiners had been easy to read, and she could tell that they were impressed with her practicals… the others had been more difficult to judge, but she felt she had performed well. Not as well, perhaps, as she would have with extra months of class and study, but well enough. 

Sighing, she pulled off her outer robes and collapsed on the couch, leaning her head back. She felt as if a huge weight had lifted from her shoulders, and the relief she felt was enormous. She sat there for a long time, mind blissfully blank, until her eyes slipped closed and she fell into a light slumber.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

When Severus returned to the rooms after his final class, he found her still on the couch, asleep. He couldn't hold back a smile and on his way to the fireplace to request dinner he conjured a blanket and covered her with it. After speaking to the Head Elf in the kitchens, he pulled off his outer robes and sat in the armchair opposite the couch. Chin propped on one hand, he contemplated the young woman sleeping across from him. She looked… young… curled up like that, he decided, frowning. Innocent. 

He sighed, then. He remembered all too well his reaction upon hearing that not only was Weasley a one-time fling, but it was her _only_ fling, so to speak. Why Merlin had seen fit to curse him with an inexperienced, nervous young woman to seduce he would never know. Though he had to admit, privately, that it could have been far worse – any number of possible scenarios came to mind that would fit that category… Pansy Parkinson, one of those two empty-headed twits that Hermione insisted on consorting with, or – even worse - a Hufflepuff… he shuddered at the thought. 

He continued to watch her in silence until dinner arrived. Then he stood and bent over her, somehow reluctant to wake her. But she did need to eat. "Hermione," he said curtly, shaking her arm. She blinked, looking around in confusion. 

"How long was I asleep?"

"As I'm not aware of when you returned, I cannot answer that question. But it is now time to eat," he said. She sat up and followed him to the table. As they ate, Severus asked about her tests, and she told him her thoughts on the examiners. Eventually they began to speak about his NEWTs, which led to a discussion of his own school years at Hogwarts.  

"I was a rather… awkward… adolescent." _That's quite the understatement, _he thought wryly. 

"What changed that? The Death Eaters?"

"In a fashion. But not precisely." He saw her head tilt in inquiry and he sighed irritably. "Lucius Malfoy, actually. He was appointed as my mentor when I joined and after graduation he saw fit to… _mentor_… me in things beyond what the Dark Lord requested. Women, the importance of a physical presence… many things. Over time, I adapted his early teachings to better fit my… unique characteristics." He eyed her speculatively. "Haven't you noticed the difference in the way young Malfoy carries himself this year?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "He's… it's like he's gone from arrogant to confident… the way he carries himself, at least. His mouth is still as ignorant and arrogant as always, though." Severus smirked at that statement. "He got the Dark Mark over the summer, didn't he?"

"Very good, Hermione. Yes, Draco received the Dark Mark this summer, and Lucius began his training at that time." Severus stared into his teacup. "As… distasteful as Lucius Malfoy can be, it cannot be denied that he has a certain… elegance of form. He cuts an impressive figure. I have my doubts whether Draco will ever be able to come close to his father in that respect."

She shook her head scathingly. "I think he's trying to copy you, not Lucius." Severus looked at her sharply, surprised. Although it made a certain amount of sense – there had always been a strange sort of competition between father and son. Hermione continued, "He tried, you know, that first morning. It was really a pretty pathetic attempt. His voice isn't right. And his version of the trademark Snape Smirk... it was all wrong. He's just too pretty," she said, her tone laced with contempt. 

Severus had to laugh at that. _The trademark Snape Smirk?_"Well, that's one thing we both agree on – I have no danger of being called pretty." He raised an eyebrow. "Some women, to Lucius' dismay – and Draco's, I'm sure – are not attracted to _pretty _men. It was rather interesting to see his reactions when we ran into that type after meetings."

"After the meetings? But I thought… don't the meetings… I mean… I heard…" she trailed off, her face uncertain. He frowned at her for a moment before realizing what she was haltingly referring to. 

Severus shook his head, snorting in derision. "Ah, yes… those ridiculous rumors. The mythology surrounding Death Eaters and our clandestine meetings is laughable. Mass tortures, orgies, dozens of victims… am I covering it all?" Hermione's face had flushed in embarrassment. "Where people get these foolish notions… how much sense would that make?"

She straightened in her chair and met his gaze evenly. "Well, how much sense does the idea that Muggleborns are inferior make?"

Severus conceded the point. "A valid statement." He caught her eyes, then, and said, "I assure you, Hermione, the Dark Lord does not call us in front of him so that he can watch a mass orgy." His mouth twisted into a sneer. "No, I'm afraid the meetings are simply filled with commands and instructions, simple discussions such as how to take over the world. We certainly wouldn't have time to… indulge… in the activities which we are rumored to. It's like any other group, though obviously the Death Eaters gather for a much more nefarious purpose than a Quidditch club. After the meeting the members go out together to unwind and socialize, although the Death Eaters generally frequent Knockturn Alley rather than the Leaky Cauldron."

"And… Knockturn Alley is where you… um… got your training, I suppose?" Hermione asked. He nodded slowly, staring at her large brown eyes, struck once again by her innocence. Reminded once again that he would have to be very careful in their… intimacies… to avoid frightening her. He let out a sigh at the thought. 

She opened her mouth and he braced himself for the next question. To his surprise, she didn't ask him anything further about his past. "But… didn't… I mean, in the raids, maybe not at the meetings… doesn't anyone get, you know, out of hand? The Call must be fairly strong…"

He nodded slowly, watching her shrewdly. She was too perceptive by half… it would do him well to keep that in mind. "Indeed. Some of the lesser Death Eaters do, more often than not, take advantage of the situation during a Muggle raid. But the Dark Lord admires restraint, and focus… Sexual acts generally cloud a man's vision. Malfoy is the only one of Inner Circle to… participate… in those types of activities during a raid." 

She was chewing on her bottom lip, and he sighed inwardly, steeling himself for the barrage of questions. "If the Dark Lord admires restraint, why does he let the lesser Death Eaters get away with it?" 

Severus shook his head. "The more like a typical Muggle break-in it appears to be, the more likely the Ministry will keep its nose away – safe in the assumption that it was Muggle-on-Muggle violence. Generally the _Imperius_ curse is employed… although some, such as Malfoy, prefer a more… classic approach." He took a sip of his tea, avoiding her eyes and hoping it was the end of the questioning. The girl could be quite tiresome.  

Unfortunately, it was not. "Draco is very much like his father in some ways, isn't he?" 

He froze at the statement before nodding slowly. "Yes. But without Lucius' intelligence. He will never rise high in the ranks, despite what Lucius may wish to believe." 

"How did Lucius rise so high, if the Dark Lord appreciates restraint so much?"

Severus' fingers tapped on the edge of his cup. Finally, he said, "He is a… special case. His money, connections… and, despite his… _appetites_… he is quite intelligent." 

Hermione looked down at her hands. "A special case. Like… like I would be a special case, right? I mean, he did promise the others that they could… um… _share me_ at a meeting, right?" 

Not for the first time, he found himself wishing that she had a weaker memory. Or was slower at making connections. "On occasion, there may be someone with a personal vendetta that will be indulged… it is rare, but it does happen. And so there will be a _special _meeting called, to… address… the vendetta. Not often, of course… particularly when members of the Wizarding world are involved… it would work against the cause. The Dark Lord wishes to promote fear, not cause the entire community to go up in arms. And he is also not interesting in winning the War only to rule over a handful of people." He took a sip of his tea, and smirked. "Not to mention, most Death Eater wives are not the most trusting sort, for rather obvious reasons. The Fidelity charm is used rather frequently in those marriages. Although Malfoy has discovered a way to nullify – or, rather, shroud - the charm, for a short time."

Hermione frowned. "Then why did Draco say he wanted to… to _have _me before the Fidelity charm is cast?" Her voice was even, but Severus felt a surge of anger as he recalled Draco's threat, and his eyes narrowed. If the opportunity ever presented itself, he would relish killing the boy. He put down the teacup and steepled his fingers, breathing in deeply to calm himself, before he replied. 

In a smooth voice, he said, "I believe Lucius and Draco were hoping to change the Dark Lord's mind, convince him that you truly lust after Draco. A quick _Imperius_, and they would have the necessary images to present to the Dark Lord. And once again Lucius' position would rise in the Circle, particularly if they could _prove _that I lied to the Dark Lord." He stood then and moved across the room to stand in front of the fireplace, staring into its depths. 

"Oh. But… if he knows how to break it, can't he just do the same thing after handfasting?" she asked shrewdly. 

Severus turned to face her and saw that she had also left her seat and was standing near him. "Because when the Fidelity charm is shrouded, it acts as a short-term nullification only. The shrouding is like… a layer, on top of the original charm. Any other charm - or curse - that is cast will wipe away that layer, exposing the Fidelity charm once more. So you see, it will be impossible for Draco to cast the Imperius on you and… _have you…_once the Fidelity charm is cast. He would have to persuade you of your own free will-" She snorted loudly at that, a look of disgust on her face, and he smiled wryly. "Precisely. So you see why Draco was intent on getting to you prior to the handfasting. The plan will not work, otherwise." 

"Oh… well, that's a relief," Hermione said. She looked down uncertainly. He eyed her shrewdly and with a practiced motion, placed a gentle hand under her chin and lifted her head. 

"Yes. It is," he said, giving her a meaningful look, pleased when he saw the effect the statement had on her. Sometimes it all seemed too easy, he reflected as he bent to kiss her. This time, he allowed his mouth to linger on hers longer than their previous touches, and he was mildly surprised when she put her arms around his neck and held him close. 

The nearness of her body, pressed against his, caused a predictable reaction in his own body and she gasped slightly, pulling back and letting her arms slide down to his chest. He could see the apprehension in her eyes, feel it in the tenseness of her muscles. Biting back a sigh, he murmured, "Don't be nervous. Miss Granger – Hermione. I will not do anything to frighten you." _Definitely not.__ That wouldn't work in my favor at all. _Gazing down at her, he said, "I would say that I won't do anything that you don't wish me to, but I'm afraid that's rather out of my hands." He forced a note of regret into his voice.

"It's… it's not that I don't wish to… I mean…" her voice faltered and he rubbed her back soothingly, intensely curious to hear what she had to say. "I just… you've… you're so much more experienced than I am, and I don't know… I'm not sure…"

Ah. So that was it. Interesting, that she was having the same concerns that he was, only from the opposite angle. "Hermione – I do not expect anything from you. I am… aware… of your relative lack of experience. Just do whatever you're comfortable with." After a moment he added teasingly, "You will not be graded on this, you know."   

She blushed and looked down, her curly hair brushing against his chin. "Um… well, I'd better… I'd better get to bed." He loosened his hold on her and nodded.  

"Yes. We have a busy day tomorrow, indeed." 

She eagerly latched onto the statement, as he knew she would. "Yes… right… Minerva is expecting me early. She said there's quite a bit of preparation, before the… the ceremony."  

"Yes, for us both. I will likely be gone before you are awake, Hermione." He saw her mouth open and forestalled her question with a raised hand. "It's a secret." He smirked and was pleased to see her answering smile. 

He gestured her to precede him to the bedroom and he couldn't help but fix his gaze on her body, eyeing the curve of her waist, the gentle swell of her hips… And he suddenly found that he was very much looking forward to the next evening.

Yes, he would do what he must… and, if what he _must_ do and what he _wanted_ to do just happened to be one and the same in this instance – who was he to complain?

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

The next morning, Severus was gone before she awoke. She recalled what he had said about preparations, and swallowed hard before crawling out of the bed. The rumpled bedcovers of the cot caught her eye, and a mixture of nervousness and anticipation swept through her as she realized that it would no longer be used. They would be sharing the bed that night… and for the foreseeable future. 

She sat down on the edge of the bed, hugging her arms around herself. Despite his assurances from the previous evening, she couldn't help but feel apprehensive. She was accustomed to knowing everything she could about a subject before embarking on a new venture… She laughed shortly, remembering the other students' reactions when they found out she had read the entire _Hogwarts: A History_ before she even stepped foot in the magical school. She had to know everything she could before coming… But there were no books to assist her in this… she giggled aloud, thinking up possible titles. _Death Eaters: Mating Practices and Rituals_… or _Your Ex-Death Eater Spy – Pleasuring Him and Being Pleasured in Turn_…or, even better - _Severus Snape: What Is Real and What Is an Act_.

She sighed, then. She assumed he didn't find her completely abhorrent… she had noticed his response to their kiss the night before, and even that innocent contact had brought him to attention, so to speak. She smiled slightly, blushing at the thought. At least she knew she had some sort of effect on him – physically, at least. Gods knew he had a physical effect on her. 

Shaking her head, she stood and peeked into the study, wondering if he might still be in the chambers. He wasn't, but she smiled when she saw that he had left her some breakfast on the table. Quickly eating and brushing her teeth, she recalled Minerva's orders not to do anything with her hair and settled for just running a brush through it. 

Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was time. A quick toss of floo powder, and she stood in Minerva's study, looking around with interest. It was quite similar to Severus' – to _their _– study, except for the colors. Minerva appeared and greeted her with a smile before whisking her off to the bathroom.

Four hours later the preparations were complete – _all natural, all traditional_, Hermione thought – berry juice on her lips, a light amount of kohl lining her eyelids, numerous mixtures on her skin and hair, her hair up in an elegant twist – pinned in place with what seemed like hundreds of pins. She had to admit that the reflection staring back at her was rather stunning. 

And then it was time. Minerva led her through some secret corridors to the edge of a courtyard that the older witch informed her had been warded against unwelcome guests. It seemed Dumbledore had thought of everything.

Minerva had spent quite some time that morning coaching her on the ceremony and the words that would be spoken. Her former Professor had admitted, with a long-suffering sigh, that Dumbledore would likely change some of the standard phrases to ones of his own working. 

She and Minerva passed through the warded barrier into the magically warmed courtyard. Hermione bent slightly to kick off her shoes and then raised her head, blinking as she took in the circle of people who were gathered to witness her marriage. Members of the Order, her friends, a number of the Professors… she smiled when she saw Harry, standing to the left of the circle with Ginny, Lavender, and Parvati. She knew from Minerva's coaching that Severus would approach the circle from the opposite side, and that it wouldn't part to admit him until she stood before the altar. Until she stood before the Headmaster. 

As they neared the circle, two of the gathered people moved to either side, creating an opening in the circle for her to walk through. Remus Lupin and Kingsley Shacklebolt, both members of the Order and people that she counted as friends. She smiled at the two men, and they both gave her small bows of acknowledgement. Minerva stopped next to Kingsley and gave her hand a quick squeeze before she released it. "Go on, child." Hermione nodded and took a deep breath, and she was gratified to see Remus' quick wink of encouragement as she passed through into the center of the circle. The grass tickled her bare feet as she walked towards the altar. She noted the two Ministry representatives, looking bored, standing off to the side unobtrusively. 

As she came closer she could see that Dumbledore, too, was bare of foot beneath his dark blue robes. The robes were magnificent, with gold threads woven throughout, and he looked every inch the powerful wizard that he was. He gave her a gentle smile when he noticed her regard and she smiled back hesitantly. She stepped up to the altar, facing Dumbledore, and she was aware of a dark figure stepping up to stand beside her. Before she could turn and look, Dumbledore began the ceremony.  

"Hermione and Severus… Know now that since your lives have crossed, you have formed ties between each other. The promises you make today and the ties that are bound here will cross the years and will greatly strengthen your union. With full awareness, know that you declare your intent to be handfasted. Do you still seek to enter this ceremony?"

She said the traditional response, her voice blending with Snape's deeper velvety tones. "Yes, we seek to enter."

Dumbledore nodded gravely and continued, "And have you chosen cords which symbolize that which you each bring to this union?"

"We have." Reaching out their hands, they both held out their cords to the Headmaster, and she looked with interest at the colors Severus had chosen. The silver, signifying protection – among other things - was not a surprise, but when she saw his second cord her mouth dropped open. It was red. The same color that she had chosen for one of her cords. Courage, strength, _passion_… she stole a glance at her soon-to-be husband and saw that he was staring at her cords just as intently as she had gazed at his. When he raised his head their eyes met, and the smoldering in his black gaze shocked her. The Headmaster took the cords in his hands with a grave gesture.

Her mind supplied the next step and obediently she turned towards Severus, facing him fully for the first time, and her breath caught at the sight. His hair was pulled back with a black cord, and he was wearing an untucked black shirt and trousers, both of a very fine fabric, with a dress cloak over top. The cloak was also black, but of a much richer material than anything she had seen him wear previously. The cloak was shot through with silver stitching and along the hem a variety of Celtic symbols was embroidered in the same silver stitching – matching the silver symbols embroidered around the hem of his shirt. She felt an intense sense of relief that Colin Creevey was present and taking photos… she would love to see the image that they made together – her flowing white next to his flowing black. She suddenly realized that he, too, was taking in her figure with his eyes, and when he raised them to meet hers there was something unreadable in them. 

"The knots of this binding will not be formed by these cords, but rather by your vows. For as always, you hold in your own hands the making or breaking of this union. As a symbol of the promises you will make here today, exchange the rings which you have each chosen for the other."

This part of the ceremony reminded her of the Muggle weddings she had attended, and it hit her, _This__ is really happening. Right now, it's happening. _With a shaking hand, she drew the ring out and slid it onto his left hand while he did the same. The heavy platinum caught the sunlight, the brightness making the subtly engraved Celtic symbols glow. She didn't have long to look, however, as her attention was distracted by the feel of a ring being slid onto her own left hand. When she saw the ring he had chosen, she looked up at him with shock. It was the companion ring to the one she had selected… what were the odds? She watched him closely, waiting to see his reaction when he came to the same realization. After glancing down at the ring on his own hand he lifted his head and stared at her thoughtfully. 

Albus looked from one to the other and smiled in an almost smug manner. "Join your hands."

She reached out and they joined hands as Minerva had coached her – right to right and left to left with their left hands – their ring hands – on top. She remembered asking Minerva why both sets of hands were to be joined, and the Professor had just smiled at her and told her to envision it from above. A figure eight. The ancient symbol of infinity. Infinity…_ Oh, Gods…_She closed her eyes briefly, trying to steady her breathing… and then she felt his warm hands tighten on hers reassuringly and she opened her eyes to see a ghost of his familiar smirk on his face. The sight grounded her, and she was able to pay full attention to the words that Albus spoke next. 

"Will you honor and respect one another, and seek to never break that honor?"

"We will." _I already respect him… _

Albus draped the blue cord around their wrists and over their hands. "And so the first binding is made.

"Will you share each other's pain and seek to ease it?"

  
"We will." _He's already been easing it… holding me as I sleep…keeping the dreams, the pain, at bay…_

The silver cord was coiled around their wrists and hands. "And so the binding is made. 

  
"Will you share the burdens of each so that your spirits may grow in this union?   
  


"We will." _I wonder if he will share his burdens with me? Or am I his only true burden right now? _

One of the red cords was draped over their hands. She stared, transfixed, as the ends of the cord blew in the light breeze. Like a red flame, dancing… "And so the binding is made. 

  
"Will you share each other's laughter, and look for the brightness in life and the positive in each other?"   
  


"We will." _I hope I hear his laughter more often… I never imagined it would be such a beautiful sound… _

The final cord, also red, was placed over their hands. "And so the binding is made." 

Taking the two ends of the blue cord, Albus tied a knot and intoned, "You are bound in blue. Hermione seeks to bring to this union sincerity, understanding, patience, and loyalty." Severus stared at her, his eyes strangely soft as Albus spoke.  

Next, the Headmaster tied a knot with the silver cord. "You are bound in silver. Severus seeks to bring to this union inspiration, protection, creativity, and the power of the unconscious mind." Hermione smiled at the dark-haired man shyly. He met her eyes levelly – a serious expression on his face. Protection… the truth of that was absolute. She felt her heart flutter at the recognition of its importance to him. 

When Albus pulled together the four ends of the two red cords, he paused for a moment, looking at each in turn before tying the third and final knot. "You are bound in red. Both of you seek to bring passion, will, strength, and courage to this union. The major binding of this union is red. May this final binding, the major binding, augment the strength and passion of your marriage. 

"Hermione and Severus, as your hands are bound together now, so your lives and spirits are joined in a union of honor and trust. Above you is the sun and below you is the earth. Like the sun your marriage should be a constant source of light, and like the earth, a firm foundation from which to grow. Bound together, you are now two parts of one whole, male and female, husband and wife. May the Gods celebrate your union."

With this, Albus stepped back and the Ministry workers raised their wands. Snape moved towards her, pulling her closer with their bound hands, and leaned down to kiss her gently. She was barely aware of the soft white and yellow flashes from the various charms that were being cast on them… the only thing that existed for her was the feel of her husband's lips on hers. 

When they pulled back, Albus stepped forward and removed the cords with a smile, laying them on the altar cloth. She was startled to see that the Ministry representatives had already left, and she wondered precisely how long she and Severus had stood there, oblivious to their surroundings. Looking up at him, she gave him a hesitant smile. A small curve of his lips answered her. "Come. I think there are some who wish to speak with you."

Looking around, she saw her friends move away from the rest of the circle. Harry caught her eye and smiled, a trifle sadly, and she felt a twinge of guilt. Tugging lightly on Severus' arm and giving him a pleading look – to which he simply rolled his eyes - she led the way over to her friends. 

"Harry, I'm –" Hermione's words were cut off by a strange guttural sound. Looking around with alarm, she realized that it came from Lavender. Harry's head whipped around at the sound and he stared at the blonde girl with a strangely expectant, knowing expression.

"Lavender – are you all right?" Hermione asked. Suddenly, Lavender's eyes rolled back in her head and her hands clutched at Hermione's free arm. 

"Miss Brown! Miss Patil, calm yourself!" Snape's stern hiss cut off Parvati's shriek before it was completely formed, and then everyone fell silent as Lavender began to speak in an unnaturally deep voice…

"The key to ensure light over shadows prevail

Is in the blood of the friend, bound in red

From dark to light, from despair to hope

From stag to blade, from blade to flesh

Betrayal brings hope, loyalty brings ruin

Blood rites will conquer the shadow

And the Dark Lord will be dead." 

There was absolute silence for a moment, and then Harry stepped forward and grabbed Lavender's hands, pulling her carefully away from Hermione. The blonde girl blinked a couple of times dazedly, then focused on Hermione and Snape. "Congratulations, Hermione, Professor Snape."

"Miss Brown?"

"What?" Lavender looked at the others questioningly, obviously confused by their startled expressions. "What is it?"

Harry shook his head. "Do you have any idea what you just said, Lavender? Before the 'What is it?'I mean." 

Lavender looked at Harry. "What are you talking about Harry? I just told you Hermione looked really beautiful today, and then I told them congratulations." Something seemed to strike the young woman, then, and she blinked slowly. "But… how did you two get over here so quickly? You were still in front of the altar when I told Harry…"

Parvati finally found her voice. "You just made a prophecy, Lavender! Professor Trelawney was right – you _do_ have the gift!" Lavender's eyes lit up and the two girls let out an excited squeal. 

Severus was staring at the two girls with distaste, his lips curled into a sneer, and Hermione would have rolled her eyes if she wasn't still musing over the cryptic words. A cold chill went through her and when she glanced over she saw that Harry was gazing at her with a strange expression – like mingled shock and fear. 

_Blood of the friend, bound in red_… 

_You are bound in red_… 

Harry had reached the same conclusion that she had. She opened her mouth to speak, but was forestalled by Severus' hand on her arm. "Albus," he said curtly, looking over her shoulder. She turned and saw the older wizard standing behind her. "Did you hear?"

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Yes, Severus."

"Do you know what it means?" Ginny asked, her eyes on Hermione.

Albus shook his head. "That, I do not, Miss Weasley. Though some parts seem apparent…" Serious blue eyes bore into Hermione's, and she was grateful for Severus' hand on her arm, supporting her as she locked gazes with the Headmaster. "I am more relieved than you can know, Hermione, that you chose this path. You have granted us hope. Blood of the friend… bound in red…" The silver-haired wizard looked pointedly at the cords still lying on the altar.  

"The binding… and I'm Harry's friend… but…me, Professor? I hold the key? How could I hold the key…" Her stomach twisted. A firm arm circling around her shoulders helped to calm her, and she stared up at Snape numbly. 

"Relax, Hermione." Snape shot Dumbledore a scathing look. "Albus, you know that prophecies are vague at best, and completely misleading at worst. Before we jump to any conclusions, perhaps we should analyze Miss Brown's words further? It was a rather cryptic message." She saw Harry's tense form relax at Severus' words, and beside him Ginny was nodding emphatically. Parvati and Lavender were oblivious to the others, still basking in the glow of Lavender's newfound skill.

"Yes, of course, Severus. Hermione – my apologies." Albus looked around at the people standing in the courtyard, and audibly sighed with relief. "At least one thing worked in our favor – the Ministry representatives left before Miss Brown's pronouncement." 

Severus nodded and dropped his arm from around her shoulders. "Indeed. It would not do for Malfoy to hear of it… he would jump to the same conclusions as you did, I am sure." Glancing around darkly, he said, "And who else may have heard, do you think? You were at a better vantage point to view the… episode, Albus."

"Just those who were in the immediate vicinity. When I recognized the signs, I cast a silencing ring around where you stood. Harry, Miss Weasley, Misses Brown and Patil," Albus said slowly. "And the two of you, of course." 

Severus stared at Albus unblinkingly, and Hermione wondered what he was trying to silently convey. After a few minutes of being stared down, Albus shook his head firmly. "No, Severus. I understand your concerns, but I will not allow her to be _Obliviated_. I think if we inform Miss Patil of the seriousness of the situation, she can be convinced to keep silent."

"How about a wand-oath, to be certain, sir?" Harry asked in a confident voice. "From Parvati and Lavender both – they're not used to keeping things quiet, and I don't want to risk Hermione." This last bit was said with steel in the young man's voice, and his face was hard and unyielding. He had never reminded her of Severus before, but with that expression on his face…

Severus stared at Harry with an equally unyielding expression and nodded. "I agree with you, Potter. I also don't desire to wager Hermione's life on their abilities to remain silent."

"Very well," Albus said. He waved the two girls over and explained the seriousness of the situation, making it sound as if they were the ones in danger if Voldemort should hear of it. Hermione was impressed – the Headmaster didn't lie once, he just left enough innuendos and insinuations that the two girls came to the conclusion on their own. In a matter of moments, they had both agreed to give wand-oaths not to speak of the prophecy or Lavender's newfound ability. 

"Even to Professor Trelawney," Harry said in a cool voice.  

"Even to _anyone_, in any form," Severus corrected in an even colder voice. The girls visibly cowered under his hard gaze and they quickly pulled out their wands and spoke the incantation before vowing to communicate with no one other than Dumbledore, Harry, or Severus regarding the prophecy and Lavender's ability. A blue glow suffused their wands for a moment before fading. 

It was then that Hermione realized Severus hadn't demanded the same oath from Ginny. Confused, she looked up at him and he seemed to read the question in her eyes. He bent down and put his mouth close to her ear, whispering, "Miss Weasley has a great deal more sense than these other two… and as the majority of her family is in the Order she will no doubt be involved in discussions concerning the prophecy." She nodded in understanding, trying not to think of the feel of his warm breath on her neck. 

"Well. Now that that's all taken care of, I believe we have a feast to attend?" Albus said, his eyes twinkling once again as he looked at them. Hermione winced inwardly – no doubt the old man thought Severus had been whispering sweet nothings in her ear… looking up at her husband, she could see by his annoyed expression that he had come to the same realization and she had to bite her lip to keep from giggling.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *          

The feast lasted much longer than Hermione had expected. She was glad, in a way… as her anxiety over the coming events grew stronger by the hour. It didn't help when Colin and his brother Dennis began to bang their forks on the side of their glasses… once they had explained the Muggle tradition to the other guests, Albus had insisted that they follow it, much to Snape's annoyance. Not that she minded the kisses… but they were causing her stomach to flutter almost as much as the expression in her husband's dark eyes as he ran his gaze over her gown. 

All of the Order members that were able to attend came to speak with them, and when Molly and Arthur both kissed Hermione on the cheek she found herself without words for a few moments. "Take care of yourself, and be happy," Ron's mother whispered in her ear before leaving.She also whispered something in Severus' ear, and to Hermione's surprise he didn't sneer but nodded gravely. The tears that were forming in her eyes were forgotten when Hagrid came up immediately after the Weasleys moved on and caught her up in a huge embrace. She couldn't help but laugh at the half-giant's antics. 

Finally, around dusk the celebrations began to slow and Severus leaned over. "I believe we can escape now, if you wish, Hermione." Looking at him, she nodded her agreement and allowed him to pull her up from her chair. 

In a matter of minutes, they entered their chambers. A wave of nervousness hit her and she turned to face him awkwardly. "I think I'm going to take my hair down," she said quickly. Without waiting for an acknowledgement, she went to the bedroom and stood in front of the wardrobe, peeling off the dress cloak and placing it inside. She ran a hand over the fabric and smiled. Then she heard him entering the bedroom.

Nerves fluttering, Hermione went to the vanity and sat down in front of the mirror to take the pins from her hair. She stared at her reflection for a moment, not sure where to start, and she winced as she pulled one out at an incorrect angle. 

A silky voice came from beside her. "Let me help you, Hermione. It's difficult to do something like this by yourself, mirror or no." She watched in the mirror as he moved behind her, his black eyes meeting hers in the reflection. He had also removed his dress cloak and now wore only the finely textured black shirt and soft black trousers, the fabric moving elegantly as he walked. 

She couldn't help but stare, entranced by the image he made against the backdrop of the bedroom… the sight of him standing there, tall and lithe, in front of the large bed was like a silent promise of what was to come... Unconsciously she nodded and lowered her hands, breath hitching as he stepped closer to her. Though he wasn't touching her, she could feel the heat from his body against her back. She watched, spellbound, as his hands came up and slowly removed a pin from her hair, skillfully releasing one small section of artful curls. It fell against her cheek, and he took the time to draw the lock of hair between his long fingers before moving to the next pin. 

A little breathlessly, she said, "Minerva must have put a hundred pins in it, to hold it in place… I would have been surprised that she didn't use magic, but she explained it's-"

"Tradition."

"Yes." She said, unable to continue speaking as his hands released another lock of her hair, this time gently smoothing it against her neck. Her breath hitched and her eyes darkened as she watched his fingers in the mirror. His hands… slender, long-fingered, deft… Who would have thought the Potions Master would one day be standing behind her; who would have thought that one day those experienced hands would be running through her hair, letting it down slowly…

She shifted her gaze to watch his face. He was staring down at his task; face relaxed and almost… serene… as he worked to release the mass of her hair from its pinnings. His hair was still held back by the black cord, smooth and sleek, and she admired the way the candlelight reflected off of its black surface. _Her husband… _

She was startled when he spoke, his voice in softer tones than any she'd yet heard from him: "You really do have beautiful hair, Hermione." She flushed at the unexpected compliment, her eyes once again drawn to his hands as he released another curl and smoothed it down. This time, he allowed his fingers to run along the line of her neck in a light caress, and her skin tingled from his touch. 

She drew in a shaky breath and his eyes met hers once again in the mirror – she could see her lightly flushed cheeks, parted lips, her chest moving as her breathing quickened. His face was unreadable and before he returned to his task he gave her a shrewd, calculating look. She knew she should try to decipher that look, but the thought fled as she felt his fingers run through her hair again, brushing against her scalp… 

With each pin removed, with each lock of hair freed, his movements grew less utilitarian and more caressing. When no more pins could be found, instead of pulling away as she had half-expected, he moved even closer. She could feel the soft fabric of his shirt brushing against her bare skin as he ran his hands through her hair again, slowly. She bit back a moan when he trailed his warm hands along her shoulders, using the flats of his palms in a calming motion. The skin tingled where he touched and her eyes drifted closed, enjoying the heady sensations. She felt his fingers edge underneath the straps of her gown, rubbing the skin lightly, teasingly.

Her eyes opened slowly to see him watching her intently in the mirror. He must have read something in her expression, because he moved to sit beside her, facing the opposite direction on the bench. "Hermione…" She leaned towards him, lips parted slightly, and he watched her through hooded eyes. She could feel his breath on her cheek and her eyes slid shut in anticipation. 

His lips met hers. A light brush of warmth, teasing her mouth… it could almost be considered a chaste kiss, if not for the way his lips lingered against her own. She leaned into him… another brush, this one slightly firmer. His lips moved across hers, laying feathery kisses against the corners of her mouth before moving back to the middle and pressing decisively against hers. She opened her mouth slightly, shifting her position to allow herself to lean farther into him, bracing herself with one hand on his thigh. He accepted the invitation, tilting his head and opening his mouth over hers. Her senses were reeling as she felt his tongue move slowly into her mouth, and she whimpered.  

His hands moved to her neck, cupping her face as he deepened the kiss, slowly tasting her. Her hands tentatively moved to his waist and she unconsciously edged even closer to him. He was really an amazing kisser, and the deft movements of his tongue as it danced across her lips, her teeth, her own tongue, made her think deliciously wicked thoughts… wondering if that tongue was as adept in other pursuits…

She whimpered into his mouth again as his hand moved from her neck, gently pushing the strap of her gown to the soft curve of her shoulder. He pulled back a bit, then – not far, watching her with darkened eyes as he read her acquiescence. Tenderly he leaned over to drop soft kisses along the newly uncovered skin on her collarbone and shoulder. 

She boldly moved her trembling hands to slide up underneath the untucked hem of his shirt, skimming over the trousers covering his hips to touch the bare skin at his waist. He let out a low growl at the contact, and she was pleasantly shocked when her stomach tightened in response to the primitive sound. Lavender's words came back to her: _Just imagine, if he's as good with that tongue in bed as he is when he's insulting students…_So far, it appeared that he was…. 

He brought a hand up to her other shoulder and it was bared in the same fashion. When he bent to kiss the skin on that shoulder, she breathed in deeply and looked up into the mirror, marveling at their reflection – his black hair and shirt stark next to her skin and dress, the thin flowing fabric of his shirt concealing nothing of the strong lines of his back, and then her own contented, dreamy expression… eyelids heavy, lips rosy and slightly swollen from his mouth… 

_We look good together, _she realized with some amazement, before her thoughts were swept away by the feel of his hands moving to her back, touching the buttons of her gown. She pressed against him then, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist as he loosened the first button. The heavy fabric fell open instantly, collapsing in a shiver down her back until it was caught at the second button. The cool air hit her heated skin, and she trembled slightly in a thrilling mixture of anticipation and nervousness as she remembered McGonagall's insistence that she go… unencumbered… by underthings. 

Tradition, of course. 

As his smooth hands caressed the skin exposed by the first set of buttons, her fingers moved of their own volition to his collar where they fumblingly began to undo his shirt. She was nowhere near as practiced as he was, but it didn't seem to bother him. And, practiced or not, she made quicker work of his shirt than he of her gown. She stared at the expanse of chest before her, tentatively touching the skin under his collarbone. It felt as she had remembered, when she dared allow herself to remember… smooth skin over hard muscle and sinew, amazingly well-defined and lean… just a light smattering of black hair across his chest, swirling down to form a dark line leading over his stomach and down, disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers. Her throat went dry at the sight and she touched her hands to the skin gingerly. 

He brought his lips back to hers and released the next button, sighing into her mouth as she relaxed in his embrace and began to smooth her hands over his chest and stomach. Emboldened by his obvious appreciation of her attentions, she traced the enticing trail of hair with her fingertips, pleased to feel the muscles shiver in response to her touch. When her hands met his waistband she drew her fingers along the edge of the fabric and around to his back, splaying her hands over the warm, smooth skin. 

And then the last button was undone, and she felt air hit her as the fabric fell open completely down her back. He straightened up slowly, watching her as her hands moved of their own volition to push the shirt off of his shoulders and down his arms. She was thwarted when she realized that his cuffs were still buttoned, but he quickly rectified the situation and tossed the shirt in front of his wardrobe carelessly. Then he turned back to her and bent down, kissing her as he pulled the shoulders straps down her arms and off… the cooler air hit her chest and she gasped as his hands ran slowly up her stomach and cupped her breasts… She moaned into his mouth and he pulled back to look at her, moving his hands to her waist.

He urged her to stand, then, and he turned around on the bench to face her. She stared down at him as he slid the gown off her body, over her hips and thighs, down her legs, his hands trailing the white fabric as it fell away from her skin. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to her stomach before standing and leading her to the bed. 

Suddenly overcome with nervousness, she stammered, "I – I'm not sure what to do… I've only-"

"Shh," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her gently. "I will show you. But you must also show me… or tell me… what you want me to do…" His hands urged her to lie down and he followed, covering her partly with his body as his brought his mouth to her neck. 

Her neck arched as he dragged his lips along the skin there, and she barely had the presence of mind to say shakily, "I'm not sure what you mean… I mean, I don't know what I want…" 

He raised his head and placed another soft kiss on her lips before responding in a velvet murmur, "Then I will have to try a few things, won't I?"

"What… what should I do?"

"Just relax." His mouth skimmed her jawline. "If there's something you don't like, tell me." His lips moved to her neck, nuzzling it for a moment before he said, "If there's something you'd like me to do, tell me." He lifted his head then and paused, his mouth a fingertip from hers as their eyes locked, the endless black gaze more intense than she'd ever seen it before – his mouth moved slowly to her ear and as his breath warmed it, she felt her body responding. "And… if there's something you'd like me to do _again_…  

"Beg."

That one word had an amazing effect on her body, and she gasped… she had never heard anything so erotic before in her life… He licked the sensitive spot under her ear, and she let out a low moan. She had thought and worried about the fact that he was more experienced than she was… but she had never really considered what that really _meant. _Now she had a better idea… he could exact any response out of her that he wanted, and she would gladly give it… and then he began to move down her body, and all thought was wiped away.

_________________________________________________________________

A/N: Whew. This will likely be the longest chapter I ever write… almost 30 pages in Word wow! But I didn't have the heart to split the nuptials from the post-nuptials… I hope you enjoyed the chapter!! Lots of things happening here… Anyhoo – read and review review review please!! It's my only payment for doing this, you know ;). 

**NOTE: **For anyone that likes lemons, rather than a "fade-to-black" sex scene – please read the full version on lordandladysnape.net or adultfanfiction.net – there's an extra four pages at the end. And, as always, review!

Meriadoc – Thank you! I'm glad you liked the log analogy… I really wanted to get into a "why" explanation for why the Dark Arts are so "bad," and I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Dakota – Here's the wedding night for you! 

Mistress Nymphadora – Thank you – I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I'm glad you like my inexperienced!Hermione. And I'm glad you liked the ending to Scars!!

Keket Amunet – The website has been going crazy lately! My degree is in Applied Mathematics, with a concentration in Computer engineering, so we're definitely coming from slightly different angles there ;). But I do care about my work, and thank you for noting that! And the Draco being a bad choice wasn't just the torture and rape – she would also be killed and left at the gates of Hogwarts as a message for Harry. So, what the Malfoys wanted to do and what Severus did with the Legilimency thing is a bit different, in my mind. But, I appreciate your viewpoint on it! And thanks – I'm glad you liked McGonagall in the last chapter (and hopefully in this chapter, as well!)

Kjay – Thank you!!! Your patience has been rewarded, and I didn't even edit out as much as normal ;). 

KES, PerfidaAnima, Arafel2 – thanks so much for reviewing!!!! 

Sorry if I missed anyone – with Fanfiction.net being up and down so much the last few days, and the Login feature turned off, and the reviews not working right… well, I'll respond to the ones I didn't get in the next chapter. 


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize (i.e. the Call of the Blood) is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 12

~~~~~~~~

Severus woke to a warm body half-covering his own. A riot of curly hair brushing his chin easily gave away the owner of said body, even if not for the current situation. Idly, he ran his hand along her shoulder and down her back, marveling again at the softness of the skin… He remembered how it had felt as though he were sinking into her the night before, her skin – her entire body – soft and yielding. While he had been with many women, none had been as… untouched… as this one. As this woman. He certainly couldn't think of her as a _girl _anymore. 

He had been surprised – pleasantly surprised – at her responsiveness. He had still held back, though… while he had no doubts that she had enjoyed last night's activities, he didn't want to push her too far… _For now, _he amended, smirking a little at the thought. Her enthusiastic response to his orders the night before made him wonder if he may be able to get a little closer to his… truer desires. In time, of course. 

Her hand shifted on his chest and he tensed, not relaxing until the movement stopped and her breathing became even once more. He frowned, remembering what had occurred the other morning, when her fingers had touched the Blood Rites scar. The Call had almost taken him over before he was fully aware of what was occurring… he had never felt it rise so quickly, so strongly… except for when the smell of blood was in his nostrils… But why had it risen so strongly that morning? He had, in his shock, grabbed her wrist and pulled it away, but not before he heard the command that sprang, unbidden, into his mind. 

_Bind her to you. _

A command… rarely did the Call provide such a direct order… Why? 

And then, during last night's activities… when she had run her hand down his body and brushed across the scar, the order had come again. _Bind her to you. _He had made some sort of noise and closed his eyes, concentrating on keeping it at bay. Luckily, when she had moved on, the feeling of being compelled had faded. It possibly would have been beyond his ability to hold back had it not faded… and then all his plans, his careful manipulation, would have been laid to ruin. 

_What_ had awakened the Call? He regretted – not for the first time – that so little study had been done concerning the Call itself. Those that bore it as part of their nature did not take kindly to being questioned concerning its effects, and what he knew he had pieced together from a variety of sources: diaries, his own experiences, and comments made by other followers of the Dark Arts. He knew all too well that his knowledge was sketchy at best, though he had done a more objective study of the Call of the Blood than most.  

Sighing, his fingers resumed their motions on the young woman's arm, enjoying the feel of the warm, smooth skin. The day before had proven to hold a number of surprises… her choice of cord colors, for one. Red. He had chosen his own colors carefully, as he assumed she had done. Courage, strength, and protection… passion, also – the Call, and his own innate personality, demanded it… he could not be considered a docile man. That had never been - and would never be - a description that fit him. 

But hers… red he had expected. The girl certainly showed courage, and strength of will, and passion – particularly in her defense of those she saw as unprotected. Like her passionate defense of Longbottom, her ill-fated attempt at House Elf Liberation. And, after the evening before, he now knew for a certainty that that passion also bled over into other pursuits. No, the red had not been a surprise. The blue, however… understanding? Loyalty? That had surprised him at first; although after some thought… it fit. She did show a supreme amount of loyalty, as befit a Gryffindor… and there were few alive that could offer him understanding. Few that still walked on the side of the Light after having been tempted by the Dark. She was one of those few. 

And she trusted him.

Did he trust her? It little mattered, but perhaps it would be nice to add someone else to the very short list of those that he trusted. He had to hold back a snort at that. He had conditional trust in a few people, mainly members of the Order, but total trust? No. Not in any other than himself. 

A very short list, indeed.   

She began to stir, then, and he let his free hand run along her arm, clasping the hand that lay on his chest. In doing so, the ring on his hand caught his eye. Another surprise, that they had picked out the companion rings. He had had the horrible thought that Minerva may decide to have a little fun at his expense and steer the young woman to something completely inappropriate… something gold and red. Evidently Hermione's better sense had prevailed. Or Minerva actually did have some sympathy for him. 

"Good morning," Severus murmured when Hermione lifted her head slightly. He bit back a smirk at the red patch on her cheek, where it had been pressed against his chest while she slept. 

She smiled shyly, eyes still slightly unfocused from sleep. "Good morning." 

He could feel the sudden tension in her and decided to defuse the situation. They would have a number of morning-afters, after all, and there was no point in starting out with any awkwardness. Moving his hand to her cheek, he stroked his thumb across it and smiled as her eyes drifted shut and her body relaxed. _So responsive. _There was something to be said for a relatively untouched young woman… the simplest of gestures had a grand effect. Although, he had to admit, it may be more the novelty that the kind gestures came from _him_, rather than a result of the young woman's inexperience… Shifting slightly, he brushed his lips against her forehead and murmured, "Are you ready for breakfast? It appears we both had a bit of a lie-in this morning."

She opened her eyes and nodded before untangling her limbs from his and sliding out of the bed. She flushed slightly as she stood, obviously aware of her own nakedness… and equally aware of his eyes on her as she walked to the wardrobe. He couldn't help himself… her body was just as deliciously curved as he had suspected, the skin smooth and even, lightly freckled in spots. He had noticed a small patch of freckles underneath one thigh the evening before, and he smiled when he caught sight of it again. 

He was mildly disappointed when she threw on a dressing gown before continuing to the bathroom. With a shy glance over her shoulder, she shut the door behind her and he lay his head back on the pillow and let out a deep breath. An annoyance, to be sure. A definite obstruction to his normal routine… an invasion of his privacy… a regretful loss of solitude… but, despite it all, he had to admit that the whole situation had its benefits. 

                  *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *  
  


Hermione eyed the journal on the table beside her and glanced back at Severus questioningly. "Do you think I ought to start writing in it today? It would make sense… the timing, I mean." She put her hands over her heart with a flourish, and said dramatically, "My first diary as a married woman."

Severus finished chewing and raised an eyebrow in response to her flippant remark. "A bit overdramatic, but typical of women, I believe. Or just Gryffindors, perhaps." She scowled at him and he smirked before nodding thoughtfully. "It has merit, actually."

"What should I write? Am I supposed to be blissfully happy, angry, filled with despair…" she trailed off when he shook his head. 

"It needs to sound natural, of course. But… the purpose, for now, is to underline the fact that it is too early for you to be brought before the Dark Lord." Hermione gasped at the casual statement, and Severus looked at her sharply. "Surely you expected that eventually the Dark Lord will require your presence before him." He stared at her silently.  

"It _does _make sense… I just never really thought about it. But… he's skilled with Legilimency, what if… I don't want to give anything away, about the plan, or blow your cover as a spy…" Hermione said, her stomach knotting. 

The dark-haired man gave her a measuring look before stating, "And that is precisely why we will begin Occlumency lessons this week. It will not be necessary for you to block all knowledge of my spy activities… the Dark Lord is aware that Dumbledore believes me to be his spy, and he is also aware that you only agreed to this marriage because you think I am Dumbledore's spy. My knowledge of Occlumency and the Prophecies, perhaps a few other items, will be the only things you must protect." 

Severus sat back, twirling his fork idly as he continued, "But I will stall as long as possible. The more practice you have before I am forced to bring you before him, the better." He raised his eyes and looked at her pointedly. "That journal could prove useful as a delaying tactic. We must convince the reader that you are beginning to trust me, but you still have some reservations… mainly surrounding my continued association with the Death Eaters." 

She noted that he said 'the reader' rather than 'Viktor,' and eyed him carefully. "So… you think Viktor – or whoever is reading the other journal - will be reporting to Vol- the Dark Lord?" Severus nodded, and Hermione chewed her lip thoughtfully. "So you have to be seen making progress, but not such good progress that they'll risk scaring me off by bringing me in front of him, right?"

"Very good, Miss- Hermione." Severus scowled briefly… Hermione thought it might be because of his near slip when saying her name. _It's not Miss Granger any more, Severus… _she thought smugly, her mind drifting back to the evening before. Belatedly, she realized that he had continued speaking. "-need to write something that puts across the correct message." 

"Well, I'll start tonight, then." Severus nodded absently, his eyes on the fork dancing between his fingers. "Severus?"

"You should mention that I took the book from you." There was no need to ask which book… those few words that she had seen, glistening on the page, flashed in her mind… burning... 

_Payment offered. Blood accepted. _

A surge of fear went through her. She swallowed, willing herself to be calm. _It's just words, Hermione, _she reminded herself. She wondered again why her eyes had unerringly went to those words… of all the writings in that book, why the Blood Rites? Why did they draw her attention so strongly? 

"I will. He may wonder why I'm not succumbing to the Call, otherwise," she said, her voice surprisingly even considering the roiling in the pit of her stomach. "So – you took the book, I trust you, but I'm scared of the group you associate with, so I'm not sure if I _should _trust you. That's the basics, right?"

"A concise summary." He shot her a strange look then. "I am not sure what else… young women typically write in those things, Hermione. Try to keep it as natural as possible. If he should suspect…"

"I know, Severus." She was silent for a while, watching his fingers as they twirled the fork. She flushed slightly, remembering just what else those fingers could do… the evening before had been beyond anything she had imagined… and more than anything, she wanted it again. She firmly pushed the thought from her mind and glanced up only to see him watching her shrewdly. He glanced down at his fingers before flicking his gaze back up to her face, a smirk growing on his lips as her flush grew more heated. _Does he _always _have to be so damned perceptive? _Mind racing to find something to say - _anything_ to say - that would keep the flush from her cheeks, she blurted out, "You know – I don't really have many appropriate robes… just the one set, besides my school robes and the dress robes I have. And I don't think I should be wearing the school robes anymore, since I'm not a student."  

Severus sat back, accepting the tacit change of subject. "Indeed. Particularly if Minerva should happen to need your assistance during class." Severus eyed her sternly. "You need their respect. Your age already puts you at a disadvantage."

"You began teaching when you were young, didn't you?" He just raised an eyebrow at her. "All right, that was a stupid question. I know you did. My mouth moves faster than my brain sometimes." He smirked in unflattering agreement and she blew out an irritated breath. "You could pretend to disagree!"

"I see no point in such things." That damned eyebrow again. That damned _sexy _eyebrow.

"It's called common courtesy."

"I am _not_ common."

She rolled her eyes as his amused smirk grew. "Tell me about it." She played with her teacup for a moment. "I should have thought to get something last week when I was there with Minerva, but… well, I was a little distracted. I guess I can see if she'll go with me again."

"No," he said curtly. When she glanced at him in surprise, he sighed and put down the fork. "I will accompany you. I have some business in Diagon Alley that could easily be accomplished today. And it would a good opportunity to gather your key to the vault, I suppose." 

"The vault? Oh, that's right," she said thoughtfully. "I had forgotten about that."

"Dear me," he said mockingly, smirking. "Something the know-it-all didn't think of?" 

"Oh, stop it." But she couldn't stop the smile that grew on her face. She was starting to understand his humor a little better. Even most of his nasty comments from class were rather amusing, if she thought about it objectively. Then she remembered something else, and said, "I'd like to visit Flourish and Botts, also, and get some more advanced Transfiguration books. Minerva doesn't expect me until later in the week, but I want to get started. And I need something to occupy my mind while you're off terrorizing students."

An amused glint appeared in her husband's eyes as he nodded. "Very well. We should prepare ourselves, then," he said, running his hand over the light stubble on his chin as he pushed his chair back. When he stood, the loose dressing gown fell open, revealing his chest. Her eyes were drawn to the scar across his breastbone, and her fingers itched to touch it – to touch _him. _To have him touch _her. _She swallowed hard and averted her gaze from his chest, willing her heart to slow. She had thought her hormones would be calmer after the… consummation… but they weren't. It was worse, much worse… now that she knew what he could do, how he could make her feel… 

Professor Snape. Greasy Git of the Potions classroom… who would have imagined he would be such an… _accomplished_… lover? _Besides Parvati and Lavender, at least, _she thought wryly.  

An hour later, they stood in front of the counter at Gringott's while a goblin eyed them both suspiciously. That in itself wasn't odd – the goblins always seemed to be suspicious of everyone that came into the bank. Finally, the goblin handed her a small silver key and waved them to follow another goblin through one of the many doors surrounding the lobby area. They followed him – her? ­­– silently until, with a curt gesture, the goblin motioned them to one of the carts. At the sight of the small cart her stomach dropped… she hated this with a passion – she had never been fond of heights, and on her first journey through the twisting tunnels of Gringott's she had made the mistake of looking over the side of the cart when going around a tight curve. Other than the rails, there appeared to be _nothing _underneath… she shuddered at the memory.

Severus climbed in and she sat next to him, her eyes tightly shut before the cart even began to move. She was extremely grateful when Severus put an arm around her – grateful enough to ignore the condescending chuckle that she heard rumbling in his chest. And then the cart took off and she clutched at him with both hands until the careening cart finally came to a halt. She sat quietly for a moment, willing her stomach to settle, and finally opened her eyes. Only to see Severus' dark eyes watching her with amusement. She could practically hear his thoughts: _Gryffindor courage, indeed. _ 

"If you are ready?" he drawled, one eyebrow raised, and she fought the urge to slap him. _That eyebrow's not so sexy now. All right, maybe it is. But it's annoying, too._

She accepted Severus' assistance in climbing out of the cart and stood beside him as he unlocked the vault. When the door opened, she was shocked at the sight before her. "I thought you said your family had no money…" Instantly she cursed her loose tongue, holding her breath… waiting for the sneering comment. It never came. 

"It doesn't. This is merely the accumulation of my years of… hazard pay… you might say – in addition to my normal salary as Head of House and Professor," his tone was surprisingly… reasonable, and she glanced at him in confusion for a moment. He appeared lost in thought as they both entered the large vault. She supposed she needn't be too surprised – he didn't appear to live a lavish lifestyle and had no family to maintain… it made sense that he was able to accumulate a modest amount of wealth.

The vault was filled with piles of coins as well as household items, unidentifiable shapes hidden under thick cloths, and… books. Mounds and mounds of books. She was drawn to one particular volume that was perched on one pile near the entrance… without thinking, she reached out a hand to touch it. 

Long fingers suddenly clamped around her wrist before she could get close to the cracked leather cover. "Do rein in your overactive curiosity, my dear. I would strongly suggest that you not touch any of the books here without my instruction. Some of my father's more… malevolent… volumes are kept here. They have a habit of defending themselves rather effectively." The silky tones, in this instance, lent his voice a rather sinister quality. 

"Oh." She pulled her hand back, feeling the familiar flutter in her stomach when he did not immediately release her. Instead, he caressed the inside of her wrist and hand before letting his fingers trail off of her skin. She let out a shuddering breath as his eyes met hers, and she had to look away from the intensity she saw there. 

Once she got her breathing under control again, she realized what she was looking at and frowned. The coins and items from her own vault were off to the side – an impressive pile, she had to admit, though not quite as large as Severus'. "That was fast." 

"Yes," he replied absently as he filled a coinpurse with some Galleons. "The goblins are very efficient. As is the Ministry, when it comes to things like this." 

The Ministry must have automatically moved everything over once the handfasting was completed. She had thought it would take a little longer, but evidently, as Severus said, they were efficient – in this, at least. She shook her head. The Distribution of Assets clause. She had only skimmed over it – the other clauses taking precedence in her mind – but now she felt a sense of foreboding overtake her as she realized the implications. How could it be guaranteed that the new spouse would have access to the vault? They had automatically moved her things into his vault, but had not automatically created a key for her. They had had to request it be done, and she remembered the strange look the goblin behind the desk had given them. Perhaps it wasn't a common request. 

With a pensive look on her face, she glanced over at Severus. She certainly couldn't picture Draco Malfoy handing her a key to his vault… what about the other Muggleborns who were marrying into pureblood families? They would become slaves in truth. 

And there was nothing she could do, without blowing Severus' cover. 

Her fists clenched, she made a vow, then, to do whatever she could to see Voldemort defeated as quickly as possible. As soon as the bastard's body cooled, she would be on the street, petitioning the Ministry and demanding an end to this law… which was, in truth, nothing better than legal slavery. And, unlike her failed SPEW campaign, this time she would be successful. She could deal with any threats from greedy purebloods that were hoping to get their hands on the money of Muggleborn witches and wizards. She would welcome them, in fact.

After all – who would dare cross her ex-Death Eater husband? And if they thought he was bad…. At the thought, her mouth curved up into an evil smile. She couldn't wait. 

Following another frightening trip in the cart, after which Severus claimed he would bear the permanent imprints of her fingers to the end of his days, they headed to Madam Malkin's. When Madam Malkin saw Hermione and then Snape walk through the door, her eyebrows shot up almost to her hairline. Hermione barely held back a giggle, realizing that McGonagall had never specified just _which _old, pureblood family Hermione was joining with. Evidently Madam Malkin recognized the Head of Slytherin House, and she glanced at Hermione with shock. Luckily, the older witch held her tongue and brightly offered to show Hermione some robes.   

They didn't stay at Malkin's long. Severus' poorly suppressed impatience prompted her to hurry through her purchases rather than browse as she had intended. Finally, after the third time she heard him sigh, she rolled her eyes and said, "Listen, next weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend, I'll just get these robes for the week and go with Ginny on Saturday for the rest of what I'll need."

"I am… willing to wait, if necessary." It would have sounded more sincere had he not bitten the final two words off. She was certain he had only stayed because he didn't want her wandering about alone, particularly in such a public place. 

"It'll be more fun with her. She won't stand back and snarl and bore holes in my back trying to rush me," Hermione said dryly. 

"She obviously has a much higher boredom threshold than I do," Severus said, sneering. 

"No, just a much higher rude threshold than you," Hermione responded under her breath. He grunted noncommittally, but she thought she saw a small smile hovering on his lips. 

They spent a fair amount of time in Flourish and Botts, and Hermione was able to take her time and browse through some of the more recent advanced Transfiguration books while Severus mired himself in the Potions section. She selected a few of the books to purchase and headed back to where he stood, passing by a shelf of DADA books. She paused to inspect them. _Protect Yourself from the Dark Arts! _and _Dark Curses: An Illustrated History… _she shuddered at the thought. An illustrated history? As she was about to move on, one slender volume caught her eye: _The Lure of the Dark Arts.  _ 

_They are… more seductive than you realize._

She was about to reach out her hand to pluck it off of the shelf but stopped when she heard a smooth voice behind her. "There is very little of interest here in that particular subject. If you so desire, I have some volumes in my private library that you can read." She nodded and turned to see her husband, inordinately relieved that he hadn't recognized which book she was about to pull off the shelf. She had an idea that that would bring up more questions than she was willing to answer at the moment. He nodded to the books she was holding. "Are you finished?"

She nodded. "Yes – I'm going to buy these." He grunted and reached out to take them from her, causing her to raise an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't do common courtesy?"

He put his hands on the books, purposely brushing his fingers against hers as he smoothly pulled them from her grip. "Your much-vaunted memory is failing already… and at such a young age. If you recall, I said I was not _common_." 

"Hmm." 

As they walked to the counter, he said, "And I have no desire for the idiots that work here to think I am treating you as a House Elf." 

"Oh, that explains it. I knew there had to be an ulterior motive here somewhere," she said teasingly. He shot her an unreadable look before his attention was caught by the clerk. 

As before, he paid for the purchases. When she had protested in Madam Malkin's, he had simply pointed out that she had a shopping trip that weekend in Hogsmeade, and then made a snide remark about hearing rumors of the type of damage two young women could do to a coinpurse. She had giggled, but didn't dispute it. 

"What business did you have to take care of?" Hermione asked as they left Flourish and Botts. He gave her a sideways glance and shook his head slightly. She took the hint and remained silent as he led them to Ollivander's Wand Shop. Her brow furrowed in confusion but she held her tongue. It was obviously either something he didn't wish to tell her or something he didn't wish to speak about in public. 

When they entered the small shop Ollivander looked up and caught Severus' eye for a moment before giving her a piercing stare. "Ash, nine and a half inches, unicorn hair, correct?" She nodded, biting back an amused smile. She was startled when he stood from the workbench and strolled up to her. He shot Severus a meaningful look before he turned back to her and asked, "And is it still working well for you? Sometimes… as a witch or wizard grows and begins to specialize in… _other_ _things_… they find that their wand doesn't quite fit them anymore. I wonder if that's the case with you, young woman." 

She had no idea how to respond. Her wand was fine, as far as she knew. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Severus looking back and forth between the two of them, but her own eyes were caught and held by the eerie, moon-like eyes of Mr. Ollivander. Then the wandmaker stepped back, a small frown creasing his brow. "Perhaps not, then." He glanced once again at Severus, who was watching him with something like trepidation in his eyes. "I thought at first… but no matter. Here," the wandmaker said, pulling a piece of parchment from his robes and handing it to Severus. 

"Thank you," Severus said gravely. Mr. Ollivander nodded and, with a final piercing gaze at them both, he sat back behind his workbench and returned his attention to the wand in front of him. 

                  *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

Hermione yawned. Despite the late hour that she awoke that morning, she felt worn out. The trip to Diagon Alley had been pleasant, surprisingly so, if a bit unsettling at times. The book, and then Mr. Ollivander's odd comments. And then, when they returned to Hogwarts, Severus had seemed a bit preoccupied. She asked about the parchment that the wandmaker had given him, but he refused to answer. She assumed it must have something to do with his spy duties, and for once didn't pry. 

Then he had mentioned Lavender's prophecy, informing her that there would likely be an Order meeting later that week to discuss the possible implications. When she asked if she would be included, he had frowned and snapped, "Yes. Either they will include you or I will bring you myself, if only to avoid having to answer a thousand questions when I return." 

Not wishing to deal with his mood, she had delved into her new Transfiguration books while he marked essays. The time had flown by and they shared a quick dinner before returning to their individual pursuits. By the time he was done with his marking and had settled beside her on the couch, she had already begun her journal entry for the evening. She could feel him reading over her shoulder as she began the second page and pursed her lips. "I'll let you write it, if you'd prefer."

"I daresay that my theatrical talents – spoken or written - do not extend to sounding like a teenaged female."

She snorted with amusement. "Probably not. I'd be a little worried if you could, actually." Her quill continued to scratch over the paper. "_I'm still so shaken up by everything – it all happened so quickly! One minute I'm trying to figure out what to do to keep away from Malfoy – something other than throwing myself from the Astronomy Tower – and the next minute Professor Snape – Severus – and Dumbledore came to me with this plan. They say he's a spy… I believe them, but I'm still kind of concerned. I mean, Severus is with the Malfoys every time there's a meeting, pretending to be their friends… what if I have to meet them, too. I don't know if I could keep my face straight – what if I give him away? After what happened… I just don't even want to see Draco's father. I don't want to see Draco, either, but I can't really help that since he's right here, at Hogwarts."_

"Nicely done," Severus commented. He scanned the previous page. "And I see where you mentioned the book… ah. Yes, a bit irritated at that, aren't we?"

"I have to pretend to be – I'm a know it all who loves books. How dare my new husband be so high-handed as to take it from me?" Hermione said with a smile. "You know – I ought to write to Viktor, too… I promised him a longer letter. Should I mention the book in there, too?"

"It would be a good idea," Severus said, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. 

She watched him for a moment before saying, "It gets tiring, doesn't it? Always having to think of someone else's plans, trying to second guess everything that you do? Not just the active spying that you do, but everything else that goes with it." He went still for a moment and then opened his eyes slowly. The mask he normally wore over his emotions had fallen away and her breath caught at the oddly open expression in his eyes. 

"I can't afford to let it get tiring." When Hermione opened her mouth, he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, the mask falling back into place. "I have played this game for too many years to count, Hermione. It does not permit rest. Even after the Dark Lord's first 'defeat,' I had to play Malfoy's game, keep in contact with the other known and suspected Death Eaters..." His voice trailed off and he stared into the fire pensively. 

"Did Malfoy always suspect that it wasn't over? He kept working, the whole time, for the cause?" Severus' eyes flicked back to her face.

"No," he said seriously. "It was Lucius' greatest wish that the Dark Lord was dead forever." At her confused look, he pursed his lips together. "Malfoy hoped to take his place, Hermione. Don't you realize just how high his ambitions reach? But we all suspected… those of us who bore the Mark… we knew that he wasn't gone. Not completely. The link was not broken." He leaned his head back against the couch. "My only hope was that he would be too weak to return to a corporeal existence. Pettigrew crushed that hope."

She bit her tongue firmly. If he had just listened to them in the Shrieking Shack, Pettigrew would never have escaped to rejoin his master. Although, Voldemort would doubtless have found another servant to help him… And with the Call rising in Snape's blood, she could only be thankful that he hadn't killed them all on the spot. 

_I am able to avoid answering it. On most occasions. When emotions run high, however…_

Or, at the very least, killed Sirius. And had that happened, Harry would never have trusted him again… and the Order would have been without the benefits of his spy activities. So many variables, like a house of cards… take one out, and it all would come crashing down. 

"Well, Lavender's prophecy offers a little hope, at least," she said softly. He glanced at her, a strange expression in his eyes as opened his mouth to speak. After a moment he shut it again and nodded slightly, reaching out to touch her hand gently. She immediately twined her fingers through his, unable to hold back another yawn. 

He chuckled. "It has been a draining day. Come." A gentle tug on her hand and she stood with him, her heart beating erratically. What would happen when they went to the bedroom? The requirements were weekly, but they weren't _limited _to that… but what if he didn't want to, or was too tired? Did she really want him to? 

A resounding yes was the only answer to that question.

Enough to bring it up herself, though? That she didn't know. What if he just sneered at her and turned her down? They moved into the bedroom and he pulled off his dressing gown before sliding into the bed in just his sleep trousers. The sight of his lean, muscled back and slim hips sent her hormones racing once again as she climbed into bed beside him. 

She didn't know how to ask the question burning in her mind… and other places. What if he actually wasn't attracted to her? Could he just be pretending in order to make things easier for everyone involved? She considered the notion and then discarded it. She didn't think so… his enjoyment of the activities had seemed genuine. But still, she didn't feel confident enough to just come out and… proposition him. Not for the first time, she wished she knew more about men – at least, in that respect. 

Sighing inwardly, she closed her eyes and leaned her head tentatively on his shoulder, relieved when he put his arm around her and pulled her into his chest. Perhaps she would ask Lavender's advice…  

                  *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

The next morning, Severus woke before her and slid out of bed quietly. She didn't have to awaken early for classes or other duties for the next few days, and he relished the thought of having his bathroom to himself in the mornings. Not that she took an unusual amount of time, in fact, for someone her age he calculated that she was rather efficient in her morning routine… it was just that having to work his morning schedule around another person was an entirely new experience for him. And not one that he particularly enjoyed. Perhaps he could coax her into combining their morning showers… that would up the enjoyment level considerably, he thought with a wicked grin. Ruthlessly he squashed the notion. No, he had to take things slowly…

…but it was certainly something to keep in mind for the future. 

He was preparing to leave to go to the Great Hall for breakfast when the fireplace popped. "Headmaster."

"Good morning, Severus. Is Hermione in?"

Severus pursed his lips. "She is still sleeping, Albus. What did you need?"

"Oh, nothing urgent, of course. Could you ask her to come to my office this morning when she's up and about? We have some things to discuss regarding her change in status." Severus nodded. "Very well, then. I trust everything is going well?"

"Yes, Albus."

"Good… we'll also be having an Order meeting this Friday evening in my office regarding the new… development." 

"I believe Hermione should attend, also, Headmaster." 

"I agree, Severus. That's one other thing I'll be speaking with her about this morning. Now that she's officially graduated I'd like to induct her into the Order. With her permission, of course."

"You didn't wait that long with Potter, as I recall, Albus." When the Headmaster opened his mouth to speak, Severus forestalled him with a negligent wave of his hand. "I know, I know. His situation is… _different._"

"Yes, it is, Severus." They both remained silent for a long moment until the Headmaster sighed. "I will see you at breakfast, then, Severus," he said before his head disappeared from the fire. 

_Potter is _always _different. It's amazing the boy hasn't grown a head larger than this room. Although it's big enough as it is,_ Severus thought scathingly as he marched back into the bedroom to deliver the message.

The bedcovers had slid down and she had pulled his pillow into her arms, hugging it as she slept. He was glad the dreams appeared to be abating – she only seemed to have trouble in the evenings now. She hadn't said so outright, but he had noted that she never went to bed before he did, and she made sure that they were touching before she closed her eyes. 

Touching… The night before, when she leaned her head against his shoulder, he had pulled her against him and the feel of her young, vibrant body against his had stirred his blood. He had tamped it down, determined to wait until she approached him. He did not want to take the chance of pushing her, or making her _think _he was pushing her. But it had taken quite some time before he had been able to sleep.

Gently, he sat on the side of the bed and rubbed her shoulder. He could have left a parchment, but he preferred to speak to her before leaving, anyway. She blinked and opened her eyes, brushing the hair from her face. "I hate my hair," she muttered.

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm rather fond of it, actually." A grunt answered him and he bit back a smile. "As I believe I told you the other night."

"You were just being nice," she said sleepily. 

He gazed at her with amusement. "When have you known me to be _nice, _Hermione? Or to display… what was it again? Oh, yes, _common courtesy_."

She laughed at that. "True enough." She pushed more hair back as she sat up and sighed. "It would be easier if were nice and straight, like Lavender's, or Parvati's." 

"Easy is boring. Your hair has character. As do you. It is one thing that makes this situation… endurable," he said smoothly, reaching out a hand to brush her cheek. "I was going to let you sleep but the Headmaster has a message for you."

"Oh?"

"You are to meet him in his office once you are… up and about, I believe he said."

She blinked again, her eyes focusing on him more clearly. "What's wrong?" 

Severus smirked. "You've become rather cynical already, my dear. Though you are correct – a visit to the Headmaster's office generally does include _something wrong_. However, this time he simply wishes to discuss your new status as an ex-student." 

"Oh."

"You are surprisingly eloquent when you first awaken."

"Oh, be quiet. You're the one that complained last week that I could talk about any subject, at length, at any time." 

"Sometimes I wish your memory wasn't quite so impressive," Severus commented dryly. She glanced up at him and, apparently reading the lightness of his tone, smiled as she climbed out of the bed and stood next to him.

"Mum always said you can't always have what you wish." She looked him in the eye and drew in a shaky breath. He raised one eyebrow, sensing the change in atmosphere between them. And decided to take advantage of it. 

Raising a hand to her jaw, he caressed her jawline before lowering his head to hers. "But sometimes you can," he murmured silkily, looking at her intently before capturing her mouth in a sweet kiss. 

A sweet kiss that quickly became more as she wound her arms around his neck and pressed against him. As he kiss deepened, he railed inwardly at the injustice of his teaching schedule - an early class on a Monday, indeed. Regrettably, there wasn't enough time to enjoy her responsiveness… and he didn't want to just indulge in a quick encounter, not when she was so new to the entire… experience. 

He held her to him a little while longer before pulling back and stroking her cheek. "Unfortunately, my dear, I have an early class this morning. And I need to make an appearance at breakfast, or the students will be completely unbearable in class with their speculations as to _why _I missed breakfast…" He brushed his lips across her forehead and stepped back. She nodded and gave him a small smile.

"Well, you'd better get going, then."

He nodded, unable to resist brushing his lips against hers one last time before he swept out of the room. 

                  *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

_"Dear Viktor,_

_Things are going well here. The wedding was beautiful, even if it was a little strange to someone who's only attended Muggle ceremonies before. I'm still a little shocked by everything that's happened over the last few weeks. I can't believe I'm Mrs. Snape. I'm assuming you heard about it in the paper, but if you haven't… after Ron was murdered Professor Snape offered to help me with my situation. You know I couldn't bear to be betrothed to Draco Malfoy, much less marry him, so I accepted. There really isn't anyone else that I think would be able to resist the Malfoy family… and I couldn't handle someone else being hurt over me. So far, it's been better than I expected, though I'm still kind of wary. _

_Thank you again for the most recent book. I have to tell you that I didn't get a chance to really read much before Severus – that's Professor Snape's name – took it. I'm not sure how he found it, but it seemed like he knew it was there… and he's got it really well warded. He said it was dangerous somehow. Which is silly, really… I mean, everything is dangerous, if you look at it like that. It's just a tool, to be used for good or bad, as the user wills it, right? I mean, it's like taking away all the knives because someone might get stabbed, and ignoring the fact that they're needed to cut up your dinner. Does that make any sense? Probably not. Anyway, I still have the other two books in my trunk, but the most recent one is warded now. And I don't recognize the wards… _

_Well, I've got to go meet with the Headmaster to go over my new status as an ex-student and soon-to-be-Transfiguration Apprentice. Write back when you're able, and thanks for all of your help._

_Your friend,_

_Hermione."_

Folding the letter, she tucked it into her robes. When she was finished with the Headmaster she would take it to the Owlery. She tossed a pinch of Floo powder into the fire and said "Headmaster's Office." Poking her head through, she saw Dumbledore. "Are you ready for me, Headmaster?"

"Yes, my dear, come in." 

A few minutes later, she sat in a chair opposite the Headmaster's desk as they discussed her induction into the Order. "I'd be honored, Professor Dumbledore."

"You do realize you may call me Albus, my dear."

Hermione grinned. "That may take me some time, Professor. It was strange enough to stop calling Severus, Professor Snape… and now Minerva wants me to use her first name… let me get used to those two first before I tackle the Headmaster's name." Dumbledore laughed appreciatively. 

"Well said, Hermione. Baby steps, correct?" She nodded and he continued in a more serious tone, "Friday evening the Order will meet in this office to discuss the prophecy. And its possible meanings. We will officially induct you at that time."

"Yes, sir."

"And now… your status. As an apprentice, you obviously have access to any portion of the library-" he chuckled when her eyes lit up at that "-and curfews do not, of course, apply to you any longer. Although I think your husband may have a word or two with you if you do not at least inform him of your whereabouts… you are still in a precarious situation, my dear."

"I understand, Professor. He's asked me to avoid being out alone as much as possible-"

"Yes. Two victims are much more difficult to subdue than one, as Severus is fond of mentioning." Albus pinned her with his gaze then. "And he's absolutely correct." There was steel in his voice, and Hermione looked at him in surprise. He nodded gravely. "You can trust Severus, child."

"I know."

Again, that piercing look. "I see. Well, once your apprenticeship officially begins you will take meals at the Head Table with the other apprentices." She nodded. Professor Sinistra had a couple of apprentices that ate in the Great Hall. "But for now I believe you can continue to dine with your friends at the Gryffindor table."

She frowned suddenly, remembering another detail. "Professor, who was named Head Girl? I can't believe it never crossed my mind until now…"

"Ah, yes. Susan Bones was announced as the new Head Girl this morning." Hermione nodded. She was a good choice. And a pureblood, to boot. "And, I'm sure you're aware that, as Professor McGonagall's apprentice, the Gryffindor Common Room will remain open to you." 

She smiled with relief. She had been certain that it would be off-limits now that she wasn't a student… well, off-limits unless she was accompanied by a Gryffindor student, of course. To find out otherwise was a relief – she could seek out Ginny or Harry if she needed to talk, or even Lavender and Parvati… 

"Thank you, Headmaster. Is that all? I'd like to check out the Restricted Section of the library… now that it's legal for me to be there."

"Yes, my dear. You're free to go," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling. "It will be quite exciting for you to be there with permission for once, won't it, Hermione?"

                  *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

She spent most of the day in the library, rifling through books that in previous years she had had to read while under Harry's invisibility cloak, casting furtive glances over her shoulder every few minutes for fear that Filch might find her. Madam Pince passed by every now and then and nodded to her – Hermione had been a constant presence there as a student and was on friendly terms with the librarian. 

She missed lunch but did go down to the Great Hall for dinner, and was glad that she did when she saw the open relief on Harry's face. "Hi, Harry."

"I was worried when you didn't show up for breakfast and lunch," Harry said, frowning at her. She looked at him in confusion.

"Why?"

"Well, _he _was here," Harry said, nodding towards the Head Table. "Is everything all right?"

Hermione shook her head and reached for her juice. "Of course it is, Harry. Everything's fine. I just had a lie-in this morning, and then had a meeting with Dumbledore about my new status, and then lost track of time in the library." Harry watched her with narrowed eyes and she almost snapped at him before forcing herself to calm down. He was just worried, and he obviously was still blaming himself for the whole situation. 

Ginny sat down next to her. "Hi, Hermione… how is everything?" The concerned look in the redhead's eyes made her sigh.

"I'm fine, everyone. Trust me," she said pleadingly. "Severus is treating me well, all right? No thumbscrews or lashings." 

Ginny just rolled her eyes while Harry gave her a weak grin. "Sorry, 'Mione. Didn't mean it like that, I just want to be sure you're happy."

"I'm as happy as I'm likely to be right now, Harry. I still… it still comes up in my mind sometimes, you know. It's only been a couple of weeks… but I'm keeping myself busy."

"Oh, really?" Lavender said archly as she and Parvati arrived. Hermione bit back a sharp retort and concentrated on breathing.

"Yes. We went to Diagon Alley yesterday and I got some new Transfiguration books, and then today I spent time in the library…" she began. As expected, Lavender and Parvati groaned in unison and directed their attention to Seamus, who was describing a particularly exciting date he had been on over the weekend. She leaned close to Ginny and said, "Actually, he got kind of impatient in Madam Malkin's and I told him I'd just finish shopping with you this weekend. It is a Hogsmeade weekend, right?"

Ginny nodded, a genuine smile appearing on her face. "That'll be great. I've been wanting to dress you up for a while now." 

Hermione chuckled. "And to think I wanted you to come rather than those two to avoid that very thing," she said with a smile. Ginny just grinned at her cheekily and took a bite of her dinner. 

After dinner she spent some time in the Gryffindor Common Room with her friends before returning to the dungeons for the evening. Severus was there, marking papers, and she pulled out a book to read until bed. A couple of hours later, she yawned and looked up. He was still marking essays. 

"You really should stop assigning so much homework. Then you wouldn't have so much marking to do," she commented as she flipped through a chapter on Transfiguring the shape of a Portkey without losing its Apparition properties.   

"And I should stop being a teacher, so I wouldn't have so many dunderheads to deal with each day," Severus snapped. "But, sadly, that is not an option."

She was getting more accustomed to his moods and just smiled slightly. Strangely, she liked him as much when he was snappish as when he was being _kind_. "You don't have to deal with dunderheads _each _day. You have the weekends off, at least."

He snorted and glanced up at her with a sneer. "I generally have rounds on weekends, or some other such thing that Albus cooks up for me to do. Or detentions to oversee."

"Well, maybe now that you're married Professor Dumbledore won't pile so much on you," Hermione said reasonably. Severus paused and stared at her, his eyes narrowed. "You could play that up, you know."

"A very Slytherin tactic, my dear."

"Just common sense."

"Again, a Slytherin trait." She snorted at that, and loudly. "You don't agree?" Severus said sleekly, standing from the desk and making his way to where she sat. 

"No," she stated boldly, looking up at him. "And, unfortunately, there are some members of your own House that ruin your argument." He raised an eyebrow and she ticked off the names on her fingers. "Malfoy Junior, for one. If he hadn't tipped his hand so early last week I wouldn't have been on my guard as much." Severus nodded reluctantly. "Crabbe and Goyle… do I really need to go through examples?" He winced and sat down beside her. 

"Longbottom, the bane of cauldrons everywhere. Much of Potions making is common sense, Hermione," he said before she could open her mouth to defend her friend. She nodded reluctantly. "Potter. That debacle at the end of your fifth year should tell you enough about him, though there is a long list of other evidence to prove his lack of common sense." She shrugged without argument. 

"That's two. I gave you three. And I wasn't finished, either."

"Ah, but I believe my final example will trump all of yours. Hermione Granger, now Hermione Snape. Another Gryffindor often lacking in common sense," he said silkily. She glared at him. 

"Oh, really?"

"Stealing from my potions supply, and then turning yourself into a cat, I believe it was? Not even enough common sense to check that you had the correct hair. Tsk, tsk."

She gasped. "I thought Madam Pomfrey told me no one would know…" 

He grinned at her wickedly. "Oh, come now, Hermione. Who do you think brewed the potions you had to take to revert back to your true form?"

"Oh."

"Mmm. More eloquence."

"You're not very nice, you know that?" she asked in a mock-serious tone.

"I believe I've been told so once or twice." __

"Well. So long as you know," Hermione said, not bothering to suppress her grin. A smile ghosted about his lips and he held out a hand. 

"Sleep?" Smiling, she took his hand. 

Later, as she lay beside him, similar thoughts went through her head as the previous night. She was trying to decide whether to act on her impulses when she sensed his breathing grow even. He had fallen asleep. A little relieved that the decision had been taken out of her hands, she snuggled against him and closed her own eyes. 

As she listened to his even breathing lulling her to sleep, she realized something. For the first time since her parents were killed, she felt… content. Maybe not happy, but definitely content. 

                  *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

 "So - how was it?" Lavender and Parvati eyed her expectantly. She wasn't able to keep the flush from overtaking her cheeks. That day had passed the same way as the previous one, except that she actually made it to the Great Hall for lunch. The two girls had cornered her afterwards and insisted that she meet them in their room for a "chat" before dinner that night. She had agreed, but wished now that she had waited until Ginny had a free period. 

"I… um-" she stammered, feeling her face grow warmer. "Well…"

"I knew it!" Lavender crowed, clapping her hands together. "You liked it, didn't you?" Not able to stop the lopsided smile that overtook her face, she nodded. "I knew it… just look at the way he walks." Parvati nodded in agreement. 

"So – did you?" Parvati asked excitedly. Hermione looked at her, confused.

"Did I what?" 

Lavender and Parvati exchanged an exasperated glance. "You know…"

"I'm afraid I don't," Hermione replied, a little annoyed. Parvati rolled her eyes. 

"Did you have an orgasm?"

"Oh. That. A couple, actually." The other two girls squealed and hopped excitedly on the bed. 

"I am so glad I don't take Potions anymore – I would never be able to concentrate!" Lavender exclaimed. "Professor Snape? Wow…"

"Well… isn't that… I don't know – normal? I mean-"

"No!" Parvati said, shaking her head emphatically. "It's _not _normal. You're a very lucky woman, Hermione." 

Hermione smiled a bit. "Well, I certainly felt lucky that night…" This time, she joined the other girls when they laughed. 

Suddenly, Lavender eyed her shrewdly. "That night? You haven't done it since then, have you?" Hermione shrugged awkwardly. "Why ever not?" Hermione didn't answer, and Lavender and Parvati looked at each other in confusion. "What is it?"

"Yeah, if some guy could give _me _two in one session, I'd be all over him for another round. Professor or not."

Hermione looked down at her hands. "Well… I mean, I've thought about it, of course… I just don't know… I mean, he hasn't really tried anything since the wedding night. And Saturday is just a few days away… there's a weekly requirement, you know, with the contract."

Parvati shook her head, open confusion on her face as she said, "If it's that good, why wait?" Lavender put her hand on the raven-haired girl's arm. 

Hermione plucked at the bedspread. "Well… I don't know. I don't know how… how to… Maybe he's not really interested – I mean, he hasn't tried anything since that night, you know."

"Wait, Hermione… you know what? I bet he's just trying not to pressure you. He's waiting for some signals from you," Lavender said confidently.

"What do you mean?" Hermione stared at the blond girl.

"Send him some signals! Instigate it… it's not fair to put all the pressure on him, you know," Lavender said. Beside her, Parvati was nodding. 

Hermione felt her cheeks get red again as she imagined… _propositioning_… Severus. "I- I can't do that… what am I supposed to do?" She let out a sigh and pulled her knees up in front of her, resting her chin on them. "I wish I had more experience… he's just so… I don't know. It's intimidating."

"At first, maybe. Listen, you don't have to come right out and say it, you know. Be discreet, just put out the signals and let him respond to them." Seeing Hermione's confused look, Lavender blew out an annoyed breath. "You sleep in the same bed, right? Well, just run your hand up and down his arm or something, and snuggle against him-"

"Make sure your nipples are touching him when you do it-"

Lavender nodded her head. "Right. Raise your head a little so he can kiss you if he wants, you know. Just stuff like that. Nothing so overt that you'll feel rejected if he's too tired to respond."

Hermione was silent, contemplating the advice. "I may be able to do that, I think."

"Oh, you should, Hermione! Don't waste any time… I mean, even two experienced people usually can't hit the big 'O' at all the first time they're together – it's usually too awkward. If you got it twice…" Parvati trailed off, and Lavender picked up the conversation.

"She's right. It's like having an iced sherbert and letting it just drip on the street without eating it. If you've got it, you have to enjoy it! It's an insult to those of us who aren't so lucky if you don't take advantage of what you've got!"

Hermione had to laugh at the mock-serious expression on the blonde's face. "I'll try… it may take me a couple of days to work up the nerve, though." 

"Aren't you a Gryffindor, woman?" Parvati exclaimed sternly.

Hermione shrugged. "A Gryffindor who's sleeping with the Head of Slytherin. Come on, Parvati; remember that time in fifth year Potions when you made me ask him for more beetle legs because you were so intimidated by him? If you couldn't even work up the nerve to ask him for more potions ingredients, how easy do you think it would be to ask him for… well, you know." Parvati's dusky cheeks darkened and the other two laughed. 

"All right. You have a point."

"No word of this to anyone, all right?" Hermione frowned. "Maybe I should make you do a wand-oath."

"You can trust us with something like this, Hermione. And anyway, it's not like anyone would believe it," Parvati said, a hurt tone in her voice. Hermione nodded reluctantly. _That's true… I certainly wouldn't have believed it if someone told me!_

"Right. Well, it's time for dinner. Come on," Lavender said, leading the way out of the room. 

                  *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

Snape entered the Great Hall through the staff door and nodded to Minerva before taking his usual seat. His eyes automatically scanned the Gryffindor table – Dumbledore had agreed that she should continue to sit there for meals for now, until she began assisting Minerva with her classes. When that time came she would have a place at the Head Table, with the other apprentices. 

"And how are you doing, Severus?" He nodded sharply in response, and Minerva's lips twitched. "As good as that? Well, it appears that Miss Grang- pardon me, Hermione, is doing quite well." She nodded in the direction of the doors, and he saw Hermione enter with Misses Brown and Patil. The two were giggling while Hermione shook her head, but he could see the amusement on her face. He wondered briefly what they were discussing… but when he saw the two other girls' eyes pass over him he had a good notion. He sighed. At least they weren't in his classes anymore. Most of the students were so revolted by the idea of their Potions Master being… intimate… with a woman that they could barely meet his eyes. He smirked at the thought.

Dinner passed uneventfully. He noted when Potter entered the room and was mildly surprised when the boy gave him a respectful nod… a mere inclination of the head, but a greeting nonetheless. He raised an eyebrow. The boy had become… tolerable… the past few months, but he was still a thorn in Severus' side. Never respectful of the danger of his actions… at least the boy was more cognizant of the danger to his friends now than he had been two years before. 

He exchanged the minimum necessary small talk with Minerva and was about to return to the dungeons to complete some grading when he saw Malfoy stand from the Slytherin table and approach Hermione's table. Her back was to him, and she didn't realize he was there until the blond man put a small package on the table in front of her and whispered something in her ear. Severus' eyes narrowed as he watched the young man saunter off through the main doors. 

Looking back at his wife, he saw that she was frozen in her seat, her back and shoulders tense as she stared at the package. When she raised her hand to touch it, he was pleased to see Potter's arm reach out and stop her. Their eyes locked, and Potter said something. She nodded blankly and then raised her eyes to his own. His breath caught at the haunted look in them – _Damn Malfoy – what did he say to her this time? _Visions of a peaceful evening in his chambers, marking papers and then reading before sliding into bed, shriveled up and blew away in his mind. Biting back an irritated sigh, he pushed his chair back and stood, ignoring the hushed whispers of the students as he made his way to the Gryffindor table. To his wife. 

"Hermione? Have you finished with your dinner?"

"Yes," she said, pushing her half-eaten plate away. "I'll see you guys tomorrow." Severus met Potter's eyes and the younger wizard reached out to pick up the box, handing it to his hated Potions Master.

"Just in case, sir," Potter said, meeting his gaze evenly.  

"I agree, Potter," Severus said, taking the box and secreting it in his robes. 

Once back in their rooms, she turned to Severus expectantly. "Well, what did he put in that package?"

"Stay here," he ordered curtly, stalking into the small office next to the study and warding the door. He then cast various shielding charms and several different revealing charms before opening the small package. He relaxed minutely when a simple gold ring was revealed… gold except for a darker area on the side… he looked closer and pursed his lips. Dried blood. He had a good idea just whose ring this was, but he could not be certain without speaking to Hermione.

A clever idea. As Minerva had noted, Hermione had seemed happier – more content – the past two days. Lucius couldn't allow that, of course… he needed her off-balance, he needed to put a pall over the trust that she was building… And what better way than to remind her of her pain? To insinuate, perhaps, that Severus himself had had some role in her parents' deaths?

With a heavy sigh, he tucked the package in his pocket and left the room. Obviously he would have no rest this evening… he missed his quiet evenings of solitude, reading or just staring into the fire… And if it weren't for Malfoy's little plots, he would still have his living quarters to himself. As he had expected, Hermione was standing immediately outside the door, looking at him indignantly. He raised a hand as she opened her mouth. 

"Before you indulge in more of your dramatics… I merely wished to keep any possible hexes from injuring you. The package is safe. In a fashion." He fixed her with his eyes, then, his gaze intent on hers. "Tell me, Hermione – what did young Malfoy say to you when he delivered his… gift?"

"He said… he said it was a wedding present… and to ask you if I needed to know more about it. From what he said, you were there when he acquired it." Her voice was even, but he could see her eyes filled with trepidation. 

"I see." Severus shook his head. _Fools. _"The Malfoys hope to shake your foundation of trust, to lower my regard in the Dark Lord's eyes. If my… if they can show that my manipulations are failing, then Lucius will rise again in the ranks as I am pulled farther down."

"I'm getting tired of being a pawn in these Death Eater power games." Her brown eyes flashed, and he raised an eyebrow.

"As am I, Hermione. And I have done it far longer than you have." She nodded, acknowledging his statement, before her eyes narrowed. 

"What… what is it, Severus? What's in the package?"

Gravely, he pulled it out and placed it in her hand. "I have my suspicions, but I need your confirmation."

When she opened the package, he received his confirmation. Tears immediately welled up and her knees went weak – he barely caught her before she hit the floor. _Definitely not a relaxing evening. Damn Malfoy and his worthless spawn! _Withholding an irritated breath, he led her to the couch and sat beside her as she fought to regain control of her emotions. A short time later he was relieved – and absurdly proud - to note that the tears had stopped, her eyes – though bright – now stared at the ring with a mixture of memory and anger. 

"My mother's wedding band. Her blood's still on it." Her voice sounded hollow in his ears, and he said nothing – just rubbed her arm. "Why now?"

"I believe that you were beginning to look too… content, perhaps. Lucius fears for his position in the Dark Lord's circle. You are adjusting too well, at least to outside eyes," he amended thoughtfully. She glanced up at him wordlessly and then looked back down at the ring. "He was certain that you loathed me enough to be… inconsolable… at the thought of marriage to me. When that didn't prove to be the case…"

"I only loathe his son that much. Well, and him, of course." She shivered slightly. "I would have jumped off the Astronomy Tower before I married that little prat… or maybe I could just push him off, instead."

Severus couldn't quite hold back a smile, which he quickly smothered. "That would not be… advisable."

"Which? Jumping or pushing the little-"

"Either." Severus looked at her seriously. "Hermione – Lucius Malfoy is not someone to cross. He is nowhere near as weak and unintelligent as his son… be wary of him." She nodded slowly. And then her eyes were drawn back to her mother's wedding ring.

"Is it… is it normal for me to want to see him dead even more than Vol- the Dark Lord?" He shifted to see her face more clearly and was slightly taken aback by the look of cold fury – of hatred – on her face. If he didn't know better, he would have said she had been taken by the Call. 

"Your issue with Malfoy is on a personal level. He killed not only your friend, but those of your blood. I would say that it is understandable, though keep in mind that if the Dark Lord falls, Malfoy will lose much of his influence. If he lives," Severus said. He didn't say it aloud, but he knew that if the Dark Lord fell, Severus would see to Lucius Malfoy's death immediately. Azkaban be damned.

_______________________________________________________________________

A/N: Another long chapter… I can't seem to get away from it. It was actually going to be longer, but I had to cut it back or it would have been a forty pager by the time I was done. The upside to that is that Chapter 13 is halfway complete, so it should be up much earlier than next Thursday.

**Note: **This is regarding the previous chapter: the full version is up on lordandladysnape.net and adultfanfiction.net, both of which allow NC-17. I don't want to push the envelope here on this site, as it only goes to R and I'm truthfully at a loss as to where one ends and the other begins in the written word, so I'm going cautious with it. If you're interested, my author's name is the same at all three sites.

The handfasting from the last chapter was a collage of different Pagan customs that I found online, as well as some things straight from my imagination. I'm glad so many of you liked it!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter – please read and review!!! 

Serpens Potio – Thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter… I'll let you know in the author's notes anytime there is "additional footage" on another site.

Tasya – I actually timed the talking in Chapter 9 – it took 20 seconds for the Draco/Hermione/Harry exchange (when I did it out loud). I figured it could take Severus that long to notice the problem, stand up, make his way around the Head Table and past the other student tables to where they were. Also, there's no telling how long he stood there before saying something ;). Thanks for the review! As far as how I make Snape sweet and still Snape… with a lot of sweat and tears LOL! I re-write his dialogue over and over again… he's a toughie. Keeps trying to go Hufflepuff on me, so I have to rope him back into character.

Leyna Rountree – "I love not quite knowing what Snape is doing. Where his motives are. I'm pretty sure he doesn't either." Good observation ;).

Melody – Yep – that's a wait and see question. 

Kristin – It wasn't a cliffie at the end of the last chapter… I simply don't know where to put the "cut" between R and NC-17 – the "full version" is out on adultfanfiction.net and lordandladysnape.net. Go check it out!

Creep – No sequel, since it's not over yet! Many more chapters to go, never fear.

Leyna Rountree – Thank you – I'm very flattered by your compliments! I'm glad you appreciate my "slower" approach to the story… I live for details and character interactions that give more insight into the characters even if there's not "obvious" plot movement, particularly with this story. 

Mistress Nympadora – Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter… and lucky you to have a supervisor like that!!

TheFluffyMuffinBunny – Thank you – I'm rather partial to that scene, too… thought it up while sitting in traffic. It's where most of my good ideas come from!

Ivana Tinkle, Jen, Anarane Anwamane, babygidgurl, Ezmerelda, McWitch, heartnut, Dakota, Louise Luvgood,   – Thank you for the reviews!!!!!!! 

Thanks also to Subtilior, who has drawn a scene from Chapter 9 – go check it out! www.deviantart.com/deviation/5651680/


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize (i.e. the Call of the Blood) is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 13

~~~~~~~~

"How?"

The single word seemed to echo in the near-darkness of the bedroom. Hermione curled up closer to her husband, burrowing underneath the bedcovers as she willed her hands to stop trembling. To occupy them, she began to play with some of the sparse hairs on his chest. He shifted slightly but did not stop her. Recalling his reaction the previous morning when she had traced the thin scar crossing his breastbone, she made sure to avoid it. 

"Pardon?" He sounded tired and she felt a flash of guilt... but she had to know. Ever since she saw the ring, something had worried at the back of her mind, something other than the obvious. And it had suddenly burst into her mind with a rare clarity. 

She had assumed that _Avada_ _Kedavra_ was used to kill her parents.

But then, there would have been no blood. 

So, not the quick and easy death she had been led to believe. She shuddered, thinking of what had been done to Ron… was it like that? Had there been that much… _malice…_ behind the act? Her throat dry, she managed, "How did they die?"

Silence answered her. Hermione couldn't see his face from her current position, and lifted her head. His eyes were open, staring blankly into the darkness… but when she looked up he flicked his eyes to hers. "I am not certain, Hermione. We only had… reports. No specifics."

"What did the reports say? Dumbledore led me to believe it was _Avada Kedavra_. But it couldn't have been."

The chest below her heaved with a deep sigh. She knew he was reluctant to tell her, but she had to know. She waited patiently and he finally said, "The final blow _was_ the Killing Curse. Lucius…" his voice trailed off. "Hermione, you don't need to know this."

Her fingers went still. "But I want to," she said, her voice cold even in her ears. _I have to know if it was like Ron…_

Severus shook his head. "I have no specifics, other than the final curse thrown."

Hermione let out a breath, putting her head back down on his chest and staring at her fingers as they resumed their previous occupation. "But before… before the curse, were the Blood Rites..." 

"No." The answer was immediate and definite. "Lucius would not… perform the Blood Rites on a Muggle. Few wizards would… if any." The arm that was coiled around her began to rub small circles on her back, and she felt herself relax into him as the motion lulled her.

She remained silent, working up the nerve to ask the next question. Not because she was afraid of his reaction, but because she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know the answer. Finally, when she heard him stifle a yawn, she whispered, "The Blood Rites were performed on Ron, weren't they?"

His hand stilled its motions on her back and she tensed. His other hand lifted her chin so that she was staring into his eyes… eyes that were now darker than even the shadowed corners of the room. He looked at her gravely and nodded once before pulling her into a tight embrace, both hands rubbing her back soothingly. She buried her face against his chest and breathed deeply, relaxing as his scent filled her nostrils. "Thank you. Thank you for telling me." 

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

The next morning, she discovered that along with the ring and her new knowledge, the dreams had returned. After Severus left her side to perform his morning ablutions, her sleeping mind was assaulted by vivid memories, snatches of conversation… 

_"Will I get one, too, Mummy?"_

_"One day you will, I'm sure. But no time soon, dearest."_

_"But I want one now!" A stamping foot._

_"Here – why don't you just wear mine right now until I finish these dishes."_

And then the sound of her mother's laughter as a five year old Hermione slipped the wedding ring on her thumb – it was too big for even that appendage, and slipped off. The clinking as it hit the tile floor reverberated in her mind, the sound melting and changing… the clear tones become jagged, sharp… painful…

She whimpered, tossing her head on the pillow, still trapped in her own mind…__

And then something that was not a memory, but vivid nonetheless… her mother's voice, screaming as Death Eaters broke into the Granger house. The house she grew up in. 

And then she woke, heart pounding… a red haze forming at the edges of her vision…

_They will pay. I will make them pay._

Her hands shook… the draw that had been quelled when she moved the books was back. Full strength. Her blood pulsed in her veins, and she could feel the yearning like a physical presence… like hands pulling at her… she could learn. She could pay Draco – and his father – back for the pain she felt. For the pain her mother had felt. She pushed her hair from her face and was startled when she felt dampness on her trembling fingers. She pulled her hand away and stared blankly at it… tears. 

_You cannot bring back the dead. _

_No, _she thought resolutely. _But I can make them pay. _

_Each step seems but a small one. _

She curled up and pulled the bedcovers over her, gripping a pillow in her arms. She had to get out of the rooms for a while… she had planned on staying there for the morning, having a lie-in and then reading more in her new Transfiguration books. Professor McGonagall had requested her presence the next day to begin her formal apprenticeship. But now… 

She would attend breakfast. And then go to the library, perhaps. Anything to get out of the rooms, to get away from the lure, the draw… _A distraction… I need a distraction… _

And then a reasonable voice sounded in her mind. _But would it be such a bad thing, really? They aren't Books of the Blood, after all. _

"No!" she said aloud, throwing the bedcovers off. As she crawled out of the bed and stood, she realized that the water had cut off in the shower. She congratulated herself on her timing and went to her wardrobe, practically slamming the door shut after pulling out her robes for the day. 

Tossing them on the bed, she sat at the vanity and began to attack her hair. 

"I didn't expect to see you awake," Severus commented. She jumped slightly, not having noticed him leaving the bathroom. 

"I thought I would go up for breakfast today, and then do some research in the Restricted Section," she said, turning to watch as he strode to the wardrobe. He was just wearing his bathrobe, the thin green cloth doing little to conceal his body. _Well, there's a distraction, _she thought, forcing herself to turn back around and continue to work on her hair. Putting Lavender's advice into play would certainly prove to be a distraction, she mused, but there wasn't enough time before his classes. Maybe that night… 

"I see," he said, a suspicious tone in his voice. She frowned and turned, her mouth going dry as she caught sight of his bare-chested form buttoning up his trousers. He caught her eye and gave her a small smirk. She still felt slightly embarrassed when he did things like that, but she was beginning to get used to it. And to welcome it, actually… she couldn't help but see how sexy the arrogant, smirking bastard was… She smirked back, flirtatiously raking his body with her eyes and smothering a grin when she saw the surprise on his face – it was quickly suppressed, but she saw it. 

He turned back to retrieve a shirt from his wardrobe, and she once again noticed the line of parallel scars running down his right side. 

_There are many blood rituals. Many blood magics. _

What were those scars from? What other rituals had he performed… or had been performed on him? The questions burned in her mind, but she didn't bother to ask. She doubted he would be any more willing to answer now than when she had asked the first time. 

Not turning his head, he stated, "If you have need of it, there is Dreamless Sleep potion in the office. I spelled the cabinet to open to you." She stared at him, dumbstruck, and he faced her with an air of annoyance. "If you wish to take a nap, for instance, and I am not… present. I am well aware of why you are not currently in Morpheus' care."

"Oh. Thanks," she said in a low voice, still staring at him as he pulled on his shirt and frock coat. "I… I hadn't been having them, until this morning. The dreams. I mean, they had stopped. But then-"

"Malfoy's little prank, no doubt, has affected you." He shook his hair back irritably and cut a glance at her, adjusting his cuffs. "Remember that the ring changes nothing, Hermione. What has occurred still occurred, and it is neither worse nor better for Malfoy's little present."

She nodded mutely. How could he be so matter-of-fact about something like this? Immediately, she chastised herself. _Because he went through it, too… but worse, since it was his own father that did it…_Clearing her throat, she said, "I know." She put down the brush. "That's another reason I want to go to breakfast… I don't want Malfoy to know he had an effect on me." Severus gave her a satisfied nod and pulled his teacher's robes on. Suddenly, something else occurred to her. "Severus?"

"Yes?" he asked distractedly.

"Should I… how should I write it in the journal? What's better – am I supposed to be upset and hate the Malfoys more, or condescending…"

"What do you think?" Severus faced her fully, then, in his full Professor regalia, and unconsciously she sat up straighter in her chair… immediately feeling foolish. "You know the goal as well as I do; what is the most appropriate response?"

A test. She had always been good at tests. She thought a moment, then said, "Well, it actually helps with the stalling, doesn't it? I can put on a brave face in public, but inside I'm in turmoil… I'm even more reluctant now to see the Death Eaters, afraid of how I'd react… and I hate Malfoy more than ever."

He gave her an approving nod. _Well, that just ruined the Professor image… I can't remember him _ever _looking at a Gryffindor so approvingly, _she thought wryly. 

"Very good. And, as you are putting forward the brave public façade, do not mention it in your letters to Viktor."

Hermione nodded, and then asked, "When will we start the Occlumency lessons, _Professor_?" He shot her a strange look before answering. 

"I had planned on this evening, but unfortunately I was obliged to assign a detention so I will be otherwise occupied. So, tomorrow evening, immediately after dinner, we will begin."

Hermione cocked her head, curious. "Must have been something good to warrant a personal detention with the Potions Master. You usually shove those off on Filch. Who is it?"

Severus' face twisted with aggravation. "Young Dennis Creevey felt that his attendance at our nuptials afforded him a more… familiar… association with me. I was forced to dissuade him of that notion."

"Oh, my…" Hermione bit her lip. Poor Dennis…

"Indeed. Cleaning several dozen cauldrons by hand should assist him in seeing the truth of the matter," Severus said coldly. 

Hermione felt a wave of sympathy for Dennis. "Several dozen? That's… that's quite a lot, isn't it?"

"That is the idea."

"Maybe you should…" Hermione paused and took a breath. "Well, he's young, you know, he doesn't really-"

He cut her off with a dark look. In a cold voice, he said, "Maybe you should save your _helpful_ _advice_ for Minerva. You are, as you will note, my _wife_ – not my _assistant_. I assure you I am quite capable of handling my classes, Hermione."

She knew he was right. Her cheeks burning, she muttered, "Fine. I'm sorry." She coiled her hair on the top of her hair, fastening it with a clip. "I'll see you later, then."

When he didn't respond, she glanced up and saw him watching her strangely in the mirror. "What?" Noticing that he was staring at her head, she laughed. "It's just to keep it out of the way in the shower. I can't wash it every day – it becomes a complete frizzball if I do."

"Ah. I do – _we _do – have a bathtub, Hermione." She looked at him hopefully and he chuckled. "Come." Taking his hand, she allowed him to lead her into the bathroom, where he lifted his wand and waved it in front of the side wall. She watched in delight as the wall melted away, revealing a large sunken tub with dozens of taps. She could see why he had separated it from the rest of the room – it was just a large hole in the floor with nothing surrounding it. She could imagine a late-night visit to the loo ending rather dramatically if one wasn't paying attention. 

"This is bigger than the one in the Prefect's bathroom!" she exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me before now?" 

He shrugged. "It rarely crosses my mind. I prefer showers."

Hermione shook her head, staring at the tub. "There's nothing like a long hot soak after a bad day. You don't know what you're missing." She turned to look at him, a smile on her face, and their gazes locked for a long moment. Her throat went dry when she saw the intense look in his eyes, and then went even drier when his eyes flicked down her body appraisingly. 

His eyes met hers again and he raised an eyebrow slightly. "Perhaps you can… demonstrate… what I am missing sometime." 

She felt her cheeks grow warm at the image that snapped into her mind. Not trusting her voice, she simply nodded, a shy smile tugging at her lips. He held her gaze a moment more before nodding and stating, "Well, I will see you at breakfast. Enjoy your… soak."  With that, he swept out of the room. 

She drew in an unsteady breath and shook her head to clear it. It was hard to believe that just two weeks ago she had never considered him as a man before, and now when he was around it was _all _that she was aware of. With a rueful grin she leaned over and waved her hand in front of some of the taps, smiling in earnest when she found the cinnamon and vanilla scented foam. 

As she slid into the water she let out a grateful sigh and closed her eyes. _Ginny and the girls are going to be so jealous when I tell them about this…_

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

She was on her way to breakfast, feeling amazingly relaxed, when she heard her name being called. "Wait, Hermione!" She turned her head and saw Harry approaching. She paused, moving to the side and out of the main traffic. As he walked up to her, she could see that his green eyes were troubled. "Is everything all right?"

She looked at him quizzically. "Of course it is, Harry, I told you – he's been fine. For Severus Snape, he's been downright _nice_, actually."

Harry shook his head. "Not him, I mean… whatever it was that Malfoy gave you." 

"Oh!" Hermione said, her stomach twisting. She had been able to push it from her mind during her bath, particularly as she was distracted by other - more pleasant – thoughts, but now… she averted her gaze, watching the stream of students entering the Great Hall. "It… it was my mother's wedding band. His father must have given it to him. And it had…" Her voice caught and she shook her head mutely.

Harry laid a comforting hand on her arm. "'Mione… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up-"

"It's all right, Harry. You have a right to know… you were there when he… gave it to me. And… it's… I'm fine." She took a deep breath and looked her friend in the eyes. "The ring doesn't change anything, really. What happened still happened, the ring doesn't make it any better or worse than before."

Harry shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. "Hermione, you're amazing, you know that?"

With a mischievous grin, she leaned over and said, "Severus is the one that said it, actually. Well, something like it… I think he worded it a little better."

"Snape?" Harry's face grew shuttered. "What does he know about what you're going through?"

Hermione frowned. "More than you'll ever realize, Harry. And no – I can't tell you any more. Just… trust me, he understands, all right?" _Better than anyone, my friend. Better than anyone, _she added silently.

Harry looked away uncomfortably. "So… um…" He stopped and ran a hand through his hair, glancing at her before averting his eyes once again. "So he's different when you two are alone, then?"

Hermione smiled slightly. "Not completely. I mean, the whole snappy, snarky thing is _him_, you know? But I'm getting used to it, and he _is_ different in a lot of ways when we're alone, I guess. We talk more than I thought we would. Well, when he's not in a mood."

Harry winced. "Talking to Snape… I just can't see it."

She couldn't resist – Harry was so obviously uncomfortable about the subject. "Of course we talk, Harry. Did you think we spent all the time snogging?" she asked in an innocent voice.

Harry looked at her with horror in his eyes, blatantly sickened by the very thought. "Merlin, Hermione – _don't _put that kind of image in my head!" 

She bit back a wicked grin and commented airily, "Well, he _is _quite good at it, really."

"Hermione!" Harry yelped, clapping his hands over his ears. "Don't say things like that without warning a man first!" Hermione couldn't hold back her laughter anymore and eventually Harry joined in, taking her arm and leading her into the Great Hall. 

Still laughing, Hermione looked up at the Head Table and gave her husband a wink, receiving an approving nod in return. Then she let her gaze drift over to the Slytherin table and catch Draco's eye for a moment, gleefully noting the expression on his face: mingled shock and disappointment. _I'll bet he was hoping that I'd be in tears, _she thought smugly. _Well, too bad, Draco Malfoy – I'm not going to give you the satisfaction. _

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

The day passed quickly. She listened with amusement to the Quidditch talk surrounding her – Gryffindor was playing Slytherin that Saturday, and the entire House seemed able to speak of nothing else. Even Lavender and Parvati were hanging on Harry and Ginny's every word at dinner as they described new maneuvers they had studied over the past week in preparation. Hearing the excited chatter coming from the Slytherin table, she surmised that both Houses were consumed by the coming match. 

Bidding her friends farewell, she returned to her rooms and changed into her pajamas, making a mental note to pick up a few other sets in Hogsmeade that weekend with Ginny. Perhaps something a little more… intriguing… than the basic shirt-and-trousers set that she currently owned. 

She smiled to herself. Poor Dennis. Severus had appeared to be in a foul mood when she glanced up at the Head Table and it didn't take Professor Trelawney to see many dozens of dirty cauldrons in the younger Creevey's future. Yes, it would be rather late before Severus returned from the detention, if the permanent scowl on his face through dinner was any indication. _At least _I_ don't have to deal with his mood this time, _she thought with a satisfied sigh. 

Curling up in one of the armchairs, she opened one of her new Transfiguration books and quickly became engrossed. She didn't notice the hours pass by as she read, until she reached a section of the book that caused her to freeze. 

Transfiguring polished gold, such as a ring, requires a certain amount of skill… 

Blinking, she shook her head. _Such as a ring_… slamming the book shut, she stood and walked over to the journal that was sitting on the desk. With a heavy sigh she grabbed a quill and began to write. 

Viktor will never know how handy this journal is… so much is going on, and while I can talk to Severus about some of it, other things… well, I don't want to bother him. Especially something like this. Is he still friends with the Malfoys? What if he is? I trust him, but I don't trust them one bit… especially after the prank Draco played last night. 

_My mother's wedding ring? With her blood still on it? What kind of low-life bastard would do that, besides a Malfoy? I can't even imagine being in the same room as Draco, much less Lucius… and while I don't think Draco was there when my parents were murdered, I would bet my two front teeth that Lucius was. I don't know what I would do if I saw him in front of me right now… I put up a brave front but the ring really did get to me, more than I want to admit to anyone. _

_Gods, what if Severus is friends with Lucius, for real? What am I to do? _

_I hate Malfoy more than ever. Both of them. Hell, all three of them… I can't imagine Narcissa is an innocent, with a husband and son like those two. What if I have to see them? What if Severus makes me? What if he has to make me go near them? Can I stop myself from hexing them?_

Slowly, she shut the journal and put her head in her hands. 

_Could _she stop herself from hexing them? Or… worse? But she didn't know any worse, not really… she had read some things that seemed promising in those books that Viktor had sent her… 

maybe she should take a quick look again, to see if she remembered correctly… 

maybe some of the simpler spells would be safe enough to try…

maybe-

Each step seems but a small one.

With shock, she realized that she now stood in front of her wardrobe."Oh, Gods," she moaned, falling to her knees and hugging her arms around herself. How could she feel all of these things? How was it possible to want, more than anything, to open those books, to read what they could teach her, to use it, if need be… to be prepared… And yet, at the same time to want, more than anything, to close them forever, to cast them into the deepest pit imaginable, to shield her mind and soul from the horrors that awaited her if she should fall down that slippery slope… if she should go so deep into the pit that she could never see the light again… to embrace the Call…

But she was safe from the Call. Wasn't she? She hadn't read the Book of the Blood, not really. Not enough to matter… that's what Severus had said. And Severus would know. 

The blood rushed in her ears and she rocked back and forth, shaking her head to clear it. It was almost as if there were two voices in her head – hers and _something _else… something that wanted more than anything for her to pick up the books, to read…

They will pay. I will make them pay.

She stood and opened the wardrobe. 

You cannot bring back the dead. 

Shaking her head violently she slammed the door shut. _No, _she screamed silently. _If I do this it's of my own choice, my own decision, no outside interference, do you understand me? _

She froze then and began to laugh at her own absurdity. Outside interference? Was she going mad? She moved to the vanity and sank down on the bench, running her hands through her hair and frowning when she encountered snarls. Then she began to laugh again, laughter with an edge of hysteria. _Some things in life are constant… no matter what else is going on. Like bushy, unmanageable, tangled hair. _

_A distraction… I need a distraction_… Picking up her brush, she tried to tear through her hair in preparation for sleep. Her frustration grew quickly as she was unable to get more than a few inches of motion in before the brush was caught up in the unruly mess. She groaned, loudly, and began the litany that she had said many times before. "I _hate _my hair! I hate it! I hate it! I'm going to cut it all off, this time. I really am." She continued to brush and continued to grow more frustrated. She was making very little headway, and suddenly the half-hearted litany became more insistent. 

"Argh! I hate this hair! This time I'm going to do it – I'm chopping it off. I'm tired of fighting with it!"

"Don't."

Turning, she saw her husband standing against the doorframe and her heart lurched. _A distraction… _

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

"Don't." 

Severus wasn't aware that he had spoken the word aloud until she turned to look at him, poorly concealed surprise in her eyes. Surprise… and maybe a little more? 

"Severus! I didn't know you were there…"

He debated inwardly for a moment before he decided to continue. He hadn't meant to say the word aloud, but it could only further his own agenda. He pushed away from the doorway and walked over to her. "Don't," he repeated silkily. "Don't cut it." She stared at him, lips parted as she obviously tried to work out his intentions. 

Gently, he took the brush from her hands and pulled her over to the bed. "Sit," he said smoothly and with a questioning look she settled where he indicated, near the head of the bed. "This is much more comfortable than that bench." With a slight shrug she pulled her legs up on the bed and watched as he pulled off his teaching robes and frock coat before bending down to remove his boots and socks. Motioning her forward slightly, he slid behind her and picked up the brush.   

Settling himself with one leg on either side of her hips, he leaned back against the headboard and pulled the brush through the locks, working out the tangles. She sighed, her neck arching as the motion of the brush massaged her scalp. Once he had brushed all of her hair, he dropped the brush and began to run his fingers through it, once again fascinated by various textures and colors… she made a purring noise when he touched the back of her neck, and the sound caused a most interesting reaction in his body. His hand paused and he went still, hardly daring to breathe as she leaned back against his chest. He closed his eyes as he felt her lean into him, continuing to caress her hair as she snuggled against him.  

Turning her face into his neck, she whispered, "That feels lovely."

He made an affirmative noise, and she wriggled against him, maximizing the contact between their bodies while she turned more to the side, allowing her to see his face clearly. Her hand ran along his arm, lightly caressing, and his body continued to respond. Did the woman have any idea what she was doing? 

"Severus…" The surprisingly tentative tone intrigued him. 

"Yes?"

She remained silent for a moment, nervously toying with one of the buttons on his shirt. "Do… do we have to wait until Saturday?" 

He felt a burst of triumph at her question, and rather than risk answering aloud he shifted and lowered his mouth to hers in a lingering kiss, allowing his fingers to run along her cheek and down to her neck… the skin was amazingly soft, and warm… She opened her mouth under his and he deepened the kiss, tasting… Gods, but he wanted to taste her… When she pulled away, they were both breathless, and he sat still, waiting for her to take the lead. 

Turning to face him, she kneeled between his legs and he saw a note of shyness enter her eyes. Encouragingly he ran his hands slowly up her sides, enjoying the feel of the silky material against his skin. She leaned forward, kissing him again as her arms twined around his neck, her chest pressing against his. 

He slid his hands up underneath her shirt and at the touch of his skin on her bare back he felt her moan into his mouth. She was so responsive… At the sound his erection twitched and he had to firmly steel himself against his desires… he had the overwhelming urge to rip the thin cloth from her body and introduce her to the many carnal pleasures that awaited her… to throw her down, pin her hips with his body, and pound into her as she writhed beneath him… 

He urged her to sit back slightly so that he could run his hands up the front of her body, cupping her breasts, circling the hard nipples with his thumbs. Her top impeded his progress and he impatiently unbuttoned it and pushed it off, not noticing as her hands began to work at his buttons. His mouth left hers to trail kisses down her neck, and he licked at the sensitive spot under her ear, smiling to himself as she arched against him. 

And then her fingers finished unbuttoning his shirt, and her warm hands explored his chest… he lightly ran his tongue along her collarbone, reaching the center notch just as her fingers trailed across the scar over his breastbone, and the Call rose with a swiftness that almost couldn't be denied. 

_Bind her to you. _

_Mark her._

Red formed at the corners of his vision and he opened his mouth over her neck, teeth just pressing against the skin… her gasp, dimly heard, caused him to pause and he trembled, resisting with all of his will…

BIND HER TO YOU. 

…strength of will… 

_No! _

He pulled his head back suddenly, breathing heavily, and grabbed her hands before they could graze the scar again… before they could awaken the Call again… 

He leaned his forehead against her shoulder as he gathered his control about him once more. 

"Severus?"

He lifted his head and stared at her, seeing the uncertainty in her eyes. "Just… regaining my control, my dear," he said in a low voice. She smiled shyly and he leaned in to kiss her, smoothly flipping them so that she lay beneath him. He kissed her slowly and thoroughly, aware of her shifting restlessly beneath him. He pulled back and smirked at her, lifting one eyebrow in a carefully calculated move. "Impatient, are we?"

They were no longer Hermione and Severus, brilliant Muggleborn and Death Eater spy – they were woman and man, skin and gasps, sweat and slickness, motion and heat… they were one body, undulating together, spiraling out of control… 

Panting, he rolled to the side and brought her with him, twining his fingers in her hair, bringing bunches of it up to his face and inhaling deeply… Sleepily he grabbed his wand from the bedside table and whispered a cleaning charm before extinguishing the lights. 

And they slept. 

__________________________________________________________________

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please read and review, either way!! I know it's not as long as the previous monster chapters, but it accomplished what I needed it to, and it's still a relatively long chapter. I hope I didn't raise the bar too high for myself with the last couple ;). Anyhoo – PLEASE review – this chapter was up earlier than a week… it does make a difference!! And it makes me all fuzzy and happy… 

**Note: **This is one of those chapters that is quite a bit longer on lordandladysnape.net and adultfanfiction.net – but it's just lengthened lemons. If you're interested, please go check out the "director's cut" on the other sites!

Influenza – The vanilla and cinnamon scented bath was JUST for you… now both me *and* Hermione smell like a Starbucks! :)

TheFluffyMuffinBunny – I'm glad you liked that scene!

Serpens Potio – More Dark Arts soon, yes. I won't promise what chapter, though. And keep your eyes peeled for clues…

Taysa – Hmm. Not answering those kinds of questions… sorry ;). Thanks for reviewing!

Mistress Nymphadora – (grin). Again, not answering… But thanks for the review. Lucius and Severus mix… yum.

Athena Linborn – Sorry, can't answer that question. I seem to be saying that a lot right now ;). But anything that's possibly plot related …whether it is or not, if it **could** be I'm not answering. Don't want to ruin the story!

Melwasul – Keep reading. ;) 

Smothered Light – Thanks! I'm trying to avoid the clichés, but some are too delicious to not include… 

Arafel2, DeniseRuth, Witch of Darkness, Dakota, Jinxd n cursed, The great and masterful Yoda – THANKS for the reviews!!!


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize (i.e. the Call of the Blood) is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 14

~~~~~~~

"We'll have quite a few colorful spheres to be changed back into hamsters after the sixth year class is finished. I hope you're prepared to engage in some hard labor this afternoon."

Hermione smiled in response. She had been in Minerva's office for most of the morning, reading over notes and lesson plans while McGonagall was teaching. "If we're lucky… I expect there will be more brown, hairy spheres than multi-colored spheres to deal with. Probably some with feet, still."

Minerva nodded. "Most likely. The color variation is the most complicated part of the assignment. The wand movements are quite complex."

_Wand movements… _Hermione bit her lip, trying to decide whether to ask the question that had been nagging at the back of her mind since visiting Diagon Alley with Severus. "Minerva? Speaking of wands… is it common for people to switch wands when they're older… like if they choose a different specialty?"

"No, not that I'm aware." Minerva fixed her with a piercing look. "What gave you that idea?"

Hermione made an effort to shrug nonchalantly. "Nothing, really… I just remember Mr. Ollivander making comments about certain wands… you know, like Harry's mother's wand was good for Charms work. That type of thing."

"Oh, I see," Minerva said, her face relaxing. "No, Hermione, unless there is an accident I'm not aware of anyone who has switched wands when they got ol- well. That's not entirely true, actually." The Transfiguration Professor's face tightened for a moment and she shook her head slightly, eyeing the younger woman shrewdly. 

"What is it?"

Minerva averted her gaze, staring out of the office window pensively. "There are certain… incantations… that particular wands are sensitive to. But they aren't in the normal curriculum." 

"Dark spells," Hermione said flatly. Minerva turned back to her.

"Yes, Miss- Hermione. But it is relatively rare – most wands will handle any spell, Dark or not. A few, however… particularly those with cores of unicorn hair…" her voice trailed off and Hermione stared, her stomach tying itself into knots. _Unicorn hair cores! _Dimly she realized that Minerva had continued speaking, "Grindelwald had to exchange wands when he… turned."

"Oh," Hermione said, knowing that her voice sounded strained. Mr. Ollivander's seemingly cryptic words came back to her: _Ash, nine and a half inches, unicorn hair, correct? And is it still working well for you? Sometimes… as a witch or wizard grows and begins to specialize in… _other things_… they find that their wand doesn't quite fit them anymore. I wonder if that's the case with you, young woman._

How did Mr. Ollivander know she had been reading the Dark Arts books? Or was it something else, some other signal that he had picked up on? Was it the same signal that Severus had picked up on? 

_Each step seems but a small one._

At that moment, her stomach growled loudly and she was brought out of her reverie. Minerva laughed. "I think it's time for lunch, young lady. I'm not surprised you're hungry, I missed you at breakfast." Minerva stood, an amused look in her eyes. "And, strangely enough, Severus was also absent."

Hermione's face grew hot and she couldn't hold back a small smile; Mr. Ollivander's odd words were pushed to the back of her mind as she thought over the events that had caused her and her husband to miss breakfast in the Great Hall. She couldn't say precisely which of them had started it, but when they were finished it was far too late to do much more than take a quick shower and order a small breakfast from the House Elves. "We um… we ate in our chambers this morning, actually. Ordered from the kitchens," she added unnecessarily, standing to follow Minerva from the office.

As they entered the corridor, Minerva glanced at Hermione and said, "So, things on that end are going well, then?" Hermione nodded with an embarrassed smile. "I'm glad."

"So am I."

                  *                                  *                                  *                                  *                                  *                                  *

The rest of the day passed quickly. There were, as Hermione had foreseen, quite a large number of brown hairy spheres to transfigure back into hamsters at the end of the afternoon classes. So many, in fact, that she and Minerva had to return to her office after dinner to complete the task. Hermione was rather worn out by the time she tossed a handful of floo powder into the fireplace in Minerva's office. 

"Ah. So, Minerva finally allowed you to leave," Severus said dryly as she brushed off her outer robes. He was seated in one of the armchairs, looking exceedingly comfortable with a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. He had already changed into his sleeping attire. 

She hadn't realized until then just how much she had missed his company that day. Other than casual glances – and some not so casual, she acknowledged with a smirk – they had had no contact since that morning. 

But what a morning it had been. If she had her way, they would be skipping breakfast every morning. Or waking up earlier, at least.

"And what precisely is on your mind, young lady?" Severus asked, one eyebrow raised. _Did he absolutely _have _to do that? _she thought as she felt her heart rate increase. 

"Hmm. It's a secret," she stated glibly, pulling her outer robes off and draping them over the back of the couch before collapsing into the thick cushions. 

Severus chuckled. "Not for long, my dear. We begin your Occlumency lessons tonight, if you haven't forgotten." Hermione sighed, closing her eyes.

"No, I didn't forget. Just give me a few minutes to wind down," she said, closing her eyes. "I would say I'm too tired, but I guess I need to be able to perform in adverse conditions. Right?" 

"Perceptive. The Dark Lord generally does not wait until you are well-rested to invade your mind. Although, unlike myself, you will have some warning before you are called before him," Severus said dryly. She opened her eyes to see him watching her speculatively.

"When… do you know how long? Before he insists on meeting your new wife?" she asked with a trace of apprehension. She knew the answer even before he shook his head.

"No. I will hopefully have a better estimate after the next Summons," he said matter-of-factly. She opened her mouth but closed it again when he raised his hand. "Before you ask – and I must tell you I am considering giving you a set number of questions which you can ask in one evening–" Hermione grinned despite herself "-I expect a Summons shortly. Within the next week." 

"Oh. Are they usually every couple of weeks?" 

"No," he said curtly. Used to his snappishness, Hermione just pursed her lips and gave him a meaningful glare. Severus sighed and put his teacup on the table beside him. "Once a month, or as needed. The most recent meeting was for the Inner Circle only, as a direct result of the marriage proposal I sent in."

"Oh, right." She was silent a moment, and then decided to lighten the mood. "So – just how many questions are you thinking of limiting me to?"

Severus' lips curled up at the edges and he leaned his head back, giving her that strange, calculating look. "Hmm. Now, that is a difficult question. Let's see – " He stood then and placed his book on the chair before gliding across the small space to the couch. He sat down, facing her. Inches from her. "Just how much is each question worth to you?" _Gods, that voice… _

Smiling more confidently than she felt, she said, "Well, that depends, Severus. What is the going rate per question nowadays?"

A genuine smile grew on Severus' face, and her breath hitched at the sight of it. "That is – in and of itself – a question, my dear. I fear you are digging yourself deeper into debt each time you open your mouth."

She could feel the flush steal over her face, but she was determined to keep up her end of the game. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Well… maybe there's something I could do with my mouth to help pay off that debt off." She was impressed with the steadiness of her voice as she spoke. It was the most forward thing she had yet said in one of these flirtatious games of words that they indulged in. 

She held her breath as he leaned in closer to her and whispered, "Perhaps." He watched her with dark eyes as she brought one hand up around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. It began teasingly, then became more serious as she pressed against him… and then she felt his arms slide around her and she opened her mouth to him fully, flicking her tongue across his lips and into his mouth, delighted when he returned the favor. 

When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing heavily and she was practically on his lap. "As enjoyable as this… debt payment… promises to be, we do have a task to perform this evening," Severus said softly, running his hands up and down her back in long, smooth strokes. 

With a sigh, she nodded and climbed awkwardly to her feet. "Let me just put these robes up and change. Will we be doing it in here?" Seeing his smirk, she shook her head and clarified, "The Occlumency lesson, I mean." The man was insatiable. _But, then again, so am I_, she thought, biting back a smirk of her own.

Severus nodded and she left the room. Standing in front of her wardrobe, she quickly changed into her pajamas and put away her clothes from the day. She shot a quick glance at the top shelf, making sure the books were still well hidden behind her summer clothes. Sometimes the House Elves moved things around, or took things for cleaning that in most people's estimation were not at all dirty. But the summer clothes were still safely covering the Dark Arts texts. Closing the door quickly, she returned to the study, wand in hand.

"You will not need that," Severus said, nodding to her wand. 

"But when you taught Harry-"

Severus sneered. "I would request that you _not _remind me of that miserable time, Hermione. I still have no idea what I did to have to deserve that type of punishment from the Headmaster – having to spend more time with Potter than necessary for Potions." Hermione opened her mouth to defend her friend, but Severus cut her off before she got a word out. "Do not bother, Hermione. While Potter is marginally tolerable now, when he was fifteen he was insufferable. Do not try to deny that, as you saw it better than anyone."

Hermione shrugged uncomfortably and dropped the subject of Harry. "So… so I don't need my wand."

"No. Potter's situation was quite different from yours – you will be face to face with the Dark Lord, without the direct link to his mind that Potter has. He will use wandless Legilimency on you, which is less powerful but easier to control."

Hermione frowned, thinking. "So he'll be better able to sift through my memories and find what he's looking for, then? It won't be so random?"

"Precisely," Severus said with an approving nod, his earlier temper gone.

"But he'll have to be near me."

"Eye contact is necessary for wandless Legilimency."

Her frown increased as she stated, "And that's why you grabbed my chin, to hold my eyes steady, then." She glared at him.

"Yes. But the Dark Lord will not bother with that, Hermione. He will simply kill you where you stand if you dare to avoid his gaze as guiltily as you did mine that day," Severus snapped. "Now, if you are through with your childish fit of pique, we can move on." 

"_My _childish fit of…" Hermione started indignantly, and then bit her tongue. Was he testing her control? Her ability to perform even while agitated? She smoothed her face with an effort and won an approving nod from him.

"Very good, Hermione." Severus paced around her, speaking in a lecturing tone. "Your emotional control must be superb. The Dark Lord is a master of emotional Legilimency – while I am more attuned to image Legilimency, he – and Professor Dumbledore - are equally strong in both. Blocking images in the mind, by use of Occlumency, is far easier than blocking emotions. We do not have the time for you to learn to block emotions using Occlumency, much less to spin out false emotions… and so you need to be in control at all times."

Hermione nodded. "Severus? What do you do? I mean, do you spin out false emotions? What about… can you spin out false images? Remus said you're a master Occlumens."

"I can spin out selected images, fragmented images, but very few are capable of creating believable false images. I have not risked it." He paused for a moment and looked down at his hands before continuing, "I block all emotion and images, and when the Dark Lord meets my eyes I spin out those images and emotions that I want him to see. Of course, they must still appear random, and so I intersperse the ones I wish him to see with generic images – teaching, childhood… you understand the concept." 

"But you said I wouldn't have time to learn-"

"And you will not. It takes years to come to that level of talent with Occlumency, Hermione. But I can teach you to block images, memories, that you do not wish others to see. You do, in fact, show a certain amount of raw talent."

"When I… when I pushed you out of my mind," Hermione said. Severus nodded. 

"Now – let us see how well you do when you are not provoked," Severus stated coolly, moving to stand directly in front of her and pinning her with his eyes. 

And, with that, her first lesson in Occlumency began.

                  *                                  *                                  *                                  *                                  *                                  *

The next morning, Hermione felt a hand on her shoulder. "Hermione." 

"Mmm. Sleeping," she mumbled, snuggling into her pillow. The lesson from the evening before had been exhausting, but she had made some progress. And he hadn't seen anything overly embarrassing, so in her estimation the lesson had gone well. 

"Hermione!" The voice sounded irritated now. 

"What?" she asked, not opening her eyes.

"Wake up."

With a groan, she rolled over and opened her eyes, blinking when she saw Severus scowling down at her. "What time is it?"

"Time for you to get up, get ready, and go to the Great Hall for breakfast."

"Oh," she said sleepily, sitting up. "Why are you ready so early?"

For a moment she thought he would refuse to answer, and then he stalked to his wardrobe and said, "I am supposed to meet with Madam Pomfrey prior to breakfast to go over the medical potion supplies."  

Seeing the clock, she realized how late it actually was. She would have to take a quick shower to be ready in time. She hated making a late appearance at breakfast now that she was seated at the Head Table – she felt exposed enough as it was. "Why didn't you get me up earlier?" she demanded, throwing off the bedcovers and standing. 

"I didn't want to wake you. You looked comfortable."

"I doubt that was the reason. You just didn't want to share your shower with me," Hermione said grumpily, yawning.  

He gave her a strange look and said, with a small smirk, "Well, my dear, had I known you were interested in _sharing _a shower, I would have woken you immediately," he said smoothly, pulling on his teaching robes.

Hermione smiled despite herself. "Well, keep that thought in mind," she said saucily, walking up to him and kissing his neck. She didn't miss the uneven breath he took at the contact. "I'll see you at breakfast then?"

Severus gave her a shrewd look before bending down to kiss her gently. "Yes. Floo to Minerva's office when you leave."

"I know, Severus," she said, irritated at the reminder. She was getting a bit tired of being treated like a brainless damsel in distress. "Have a good meeting."

"Irritated, my dear?" Severus said, smirking at her. She just scowled at him as he chuckled. "Until later then, Hermione. And remember," he murmured, rubbing his thumb along her jaw. "We are doing this not because you are incapable of taking care of yourself, but so that the situation does not arise where you will have to. I don't believe we are being overly cautious in this instance – Malfoy has made direct threats against you." His black eyes bore into her. "Think, Hermione. What would happen to your little friend Potter if something were to befall you?" 

She looked down, the anger melting from her. 

"Precisely. Now – I must go," Severus said, lifting her chin and brushing her lips with his own. 

"All right," Hermione answered, grabbing the hand that was still stroking her jaw and bringing it to her mouth. She placed a gentle kiss against the palm and was rewarded by an almost inarticulate sigh. "Goodbye." 

Some time later, Hermione was seated at the Head Table with the other apprentices, gazing longingly at the Gryffindor table where her friends sat. She missed meals with Ginny and Harry, and even Lavender and Parvati, but she understood the need to assert her new position in the school. Particularly since she would soon be assisting with Minerva's classes.

It wouldn't have been as lonely if the two Astronomy apprentices ever spoke to her. However, they were generally deep in a discussion of star charts or telescope settings, and she had precious little interest in the details of either subject. So, after the obligatory greetings, she was left to her own thoughts for most of the mealtimes. 

Severus came in shortly after she did, arriving through the staff door along with Madam Pomfrey. Their eyes met and he gave a quick nod in response to her warm smile, which only made her grin grow. He was in full Potions Master character once he entered the Great Hall, and he certainly couldn't allow the students to see him smile. Even at his wife. Or… perhaps, especially not at his wife. She wondered, then, just how the students had been behaving towards him since their marriage was made public. She knew about Dennis, of course, but she wondered if any other students had dared to say anything in his earshot. 

Probably not.

Her musings were cut short by the arrival of the owl post. She smiled at the shrieks and calls from both owls and children as feathers, knocked loose when the owls backwinged to their landings, floated in the air. Absently, she noted a few owls heading for the Head Table and thought nothing of it until she noticed one plain brown owl headed for her chair. She tensed for a moment until she realized that the owl was carrying only a letter, with no forbidding packages. _It must be Viktor's__ reply, _she thought with relief, giving the owl a bit of toast before it flew off. Sneaking a glance over at her husband, she smiled reassuringly and he nodded and turned back to McGonagall. 

With a sigh she pushed back her plate and opened the envelope, pulling out two parchments. The first page was a reply to her letter, as she had expected, but the second… her breath caught. The page was filled with incantations… descriptions of wand movements… spells… ward-breaking spells. _Merlin…_

She glanced up and saw that Severus was still engaged in conversation with Minerva. Madam Hooch had joined in, which suggested that it was a discussion about the Quidditch match the next day. She breathed a sigh of relief. She knew she should show the parchment to Severus, but something was telling her to keep it quiet… and really, why deny herself the knowledge? Who knew when it might come in handy… not only for revenge, but to possibly protect someone close to her… how could she deny any advantage that was available? She would be a fool to throw that advantage away. 

_They will pay. I will make them pay._

Carefully schooling her features, she folded the incantation-covered parchment and tucked it into her robes. A quick glance at her husband assured her that he had noticed nothing out of the ordinary. Much more relaxed, she scanned the letter to be sure that, as she had suspected, there was no mention of the second page. With a satisfied nod, she re-folded the letter and returned it to the envelope. Severus would no doubt like to see it later that night so they could plan the wording of her next correspondence. 

But now, she had a busy day ahead of her.

                  *                                  *                                  *                                  *                                  *                                  *

After dinner that evening, Lavender and Parvati grabbed her from Minerva's office where she had gone to pick up some papers to be marked over the weekend. She looked at Minerva pleadingly but the traitorous witch simply nodded and told her that she had time before the evening's meeting to catch up with her friends. Severus had a private meeting with the Headmaster before the Order met, and so she was unable to use him as an excuse. With a resigned sigh, Hermione followed the two exuberant witches into the Gryffindor common room. Ginny was seated in front of the fireplace and Hermione gave a relieved sigh when she rose from her chair and followed them up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.  

She needed another rational person in the room with her. She and Ginny sat on one bed, while Parvati and Lavender sat across from them. 

And the interrogation began. 

"So?" 

Hermione just smirked, and the two girls seated across from her grinned widely and then began talking at once. 

"When?"

"How?"

"Did you do what we told you?"

"Was it as good as the first time?"

Hermione glanced at the redheaded witch beside her and caught the roll of her eyes. Hermione held her hands up. "Slow down, girls. I did take your advice, but then I went for the more direct approach."

Parvati sucked in a breath, her eyes wide. "You grabbed his-"

"No!" Hermione shrieked, flushing. Beside, her, Ginny giggled. _Traitor, _Hermione thought sourly and in a more moderate tone she said, "Gods, Parvati! No, I just asked if we had to wait until Saturday." 

Lavender cocked her head to the side and regarded Hermione for a moment before saying, "You just came right out and said that?"

Hermione shrugged, unable to hold back an embarrassed grin. "Well, no, not exactly… he was brushing my hair-" At the sound of the other girls' gasps Hermione stopped in confusion. "What?"

"He was brushing your hair?" Lavender asked, a knowing look on her face. Hermione nodded. Lavender and Parvati's eyes met and they both smirked. "Oh, he's more than just attracted to you, Hermione. He's infatuated."

"Don't be silly," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over at Ginny for support but when she saw the wide-eyed gaze of the younger witch she knew there would be no assistance from that quarter.

"No, I'm serious – why else would he do that?" Lavender insisted.

Hermione sighed. "He's just trying to make me feel more comfortable, I'm sure, Lavender. We've only _really _known each other for a couple of weeks now." 

"True love doesn't nee-"

"Parvati, you have _got _to stop reading those romance novels, all right?" Hermione said, laughing. "Listen, you lot… Severus and I are getting along well, better than I thought, and I'm pretty sure he's attracted to me, but there's nothing more than that. Really. It's too soon." 

Lavender nodded. "I'll grant you that, Hermione. But I foresee something more happening…" Hermione rolled her eyes. "I bet if I got a chance to read both of your palms, it would tell me more."

"Right. It would tell you that we're both pale and have a habit of spilling ink on our fingers." At Hermione's terse statement, Ginny giggled and the two Divination students shared a long-suffering look. "He's just trying to make me more comfortable with everything." Ginny quickly sobered and gave her an odd look.

"Hermione… I doubt he's only doing it to make you more comfortable. That doesn't seem very Snape-like," Ginny said slowly. Hermione just shook her head. Despite the others' words, she felt certain that it was the truth… she had sensed a few instances during their… encounters… where she felt certain that he was holding back in some way. And, even outside the bedroom, he was obviously making an effort to be friendlier to her… if such a word could be used to describe the dark man. Ginny was right – it didn't seem very Snape-like, actually. So why was he bothering? 

Hermione cleared her throat and shrugged, pushing the suspicious thoughts aside to deal with later. "Maybe… it's just easier for him that way. It wouldn't be very pleasant or peaceful to live with someone who's at your throat, or who shakes like a leaf every time they talk to you. So being nice to me benefits him, too…"

Parvati snorted. "It's not the only benefits he's getting. Angry people usually don't shag quite so often."

"Parvati!" Ginny gasped. Hermione glanced over at her and scowled when she saw the broad grin on the redhead's face. 

Lavender shook her head. "Not true, Parvati. Angry sex can be great. No holds barred, if you know what I mean," the blonde witch said, grinning wickedly. Hermione cocked her head curiously. "I'm serious – the best sex I ever had was during a fight with Seamus about a month ago. He was angry and I had a go at him – wanted to end the fight – and it was amazing. So… wild and unrestrained." 

Ginny giggled again. Hermione had mixed feelings about this – on one hand, she was glad that Ginny was beginning to relax again and have some fun; on the other hand, she wasn't sure _she _wanted to be the catalyst for said fun. Ginny's eyes glinted mischievously as she said, "That's true, Lavender… I know Dean and I… well, never mind. But, can you imagine – with Professor Snape's temper?"

Lavender nodded with a wide grin. "Yeah. Wild and unrestrained wouldn't even come _close_."

                  *                                  *                                  *                                  *                                  *                                  *

Severus slipped quietly through the door of the meeting room. He had had to attend to an issue in Slytherin House immediately prior to the Order meeting and as a result was delayed. The other Order members were already seated in the office, including his wife, who apparently had saved an empty seat beside her. Their eyes met and when she smiled in greeting, he stalked across the room to take the chair next to her. 

As soon as he was seated, Hermione leaned over and whispered, "Trouble in Slytherin, Severus?"

He made a noncommittal grunt and eyed her sourly. "You don't have to look so joyous, my dear. I am not pleased to have to take points from my own House, as you well know."

Hermione chuckled lightly and in a low voice said, "Minerva and I saw the points drop in the hourglass on the way. Prof- um, Albus told us what happened."

"Oh he did? And did he also-" Severus hissed. He stopped abruptly when he heard Dumbledore clear his throat. 

"Thank all of you for coming this evening. I know it isn't our normal meeting time, but we have an issue to discuss. We aren't all here, but I did call those I thought would be most… useful… in the current situation."

On the other side of him, Kingsley Shacklebolt grinned and Severus couldn't hold back a smirk. No, conniving though the man was, Mundungus Fletcher would be of little use in deciphering a cryptic prophecy. 

"There is also a second purpose to this meeting. I have, with the consent of the Lead Order members, named Hermione Snape as an official member of the Order of the Phoenix." As Dumbledore spoke the standard words of greeting, Severus scanned the room. The people he had expected to appear were all present… including Alastor Moody. 

Severus froze when his gaze fell on the old Auror. Mad-Eye Moody was staring at Hermione intently, with an odd expression on his face. Did Moody sense the affinity, also? He bit back an irritated sigh. Had he and Moody enjoyed a more affable relationship, he might have arranged to speak to the man after the meeting. But, as it was…

"And now, to the matter at hand," Albus stated, bringing Severus' attention back to the Headmaster. Dumbledore turned and, with a sweep of his wand, fiery letters appeared on the wall behind him. The glowing words on the wall drew all eyes in the room. 

_The key to ensure light over shadows prevail_

_Is in the blood of the friend, bound in red_

_From dark to light, from despair to hope_

_From stag to blade, from blade to flesh_

_Betrayal brings hope, loyalty brings ruin_

_Blood Rites will conquer the shadow_

_And the Dark Lord will be dead._

Bill Weasley sat forward, his brow knit in concentration. Potter was shaking his head slightly as he read and reread the words, and beside him Lupin put a hand on the boy's shoulder in a gesture of support. Severus almost snorted – Potter had so many people fawning all over him it was nauseating. This prophecy didn't even involve the boy, if his suspicions were correct. Despite his words to Albus after the handfasting ceremony, it appeared clear to Severus that the prophecy spoke of Hermione. 

He watched his wife from the corner of his eye. She appeared to be composed and calm, but he could see her knuckles turning white from the pressure she was exerting on the arm of her chair. She was gaining better control over her emotions, but she still needed work – as was evidenced in their tutoring session the evening before. Even so… he recognized that he didn't enjoy seeing her upset…

The realization unsettled him.

He sat for a moment, his body stiff, while his mind worked furiously. Finally he relaxed. Of course he didn't want to see the young woman upset – he had to live with her, after all, and dealing with a weepy female wasn't at the top of his list of things to do that evening. Indeed, there was something quite different topping his list of things to accomplish…

Potter spoke up then, spoiling his reverie. "Professor, as much as I don't want it to be true… I've been thinking about it all week, and I just don't see what else that second line could be referring to, other than Hermione."

Severus turned to face her and saw her nod slowly, still outwardly composed. However, years of reading people would have told him otherwise even without the evidence of her whitened knuckles. She was breathing just a little too quickly, a little too shallowly, and her pupils were dilated more than the brightness in the room would normally cause. Letting out a breath, Severus turned back to face Dumbledore. "Headmaster, I believe Potter is correct." As he spoke, he snaked one hand out to stroke her fingers and he saw her jump slightly, startled at the contact. 

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Severus, as do I. Does anyone have any other ideas?" While Dumbledore scanned the room to see if anyone could come up with an alternate explanation, Severus lifted her unresisting hand from the chair arm and twined his fingers through hers. He didn't miss the smile that played at the edges of her lips as she stared down at their entwined hands… or the faint blush that appeared on her cheeks at the contact. 

Kingsley shook his head. "Albus, that's about the only line – other than the first and last – that is clear to me. The major binding of Hermione and Severus' union was red."

"And 'Blood of the friend'… well, that obviously refers to Hermione rather than Severus," Lupin stated. Lupin shrugged. "If, indeed, it is a friend of Harry's that the prophecy speaks of."

Severus sat back and said curtly, "It is undoubtedly Hermione. Those that I call friend, or that call me friend in turn, are few and far between, Lupin." Severus' tone made it clear that, in his estimation, this was a perfectly acceptable state of affairs. 

"What about the rest of the lines?" Molly Weasley asked, her face pale but set. 

Tonks spoke up then. "Some of them are fairly obvious, or at least just filler-type things – like the 'From dark to light' line… but what about 'From stag to blade, from blade to flesh?'" 

Silence fell over the room until Hermione let out a sharp exclamation, her fingers tightening in Severus' grip. "Harry! The stag! Prongs!"

Lupin looked at her strangely. "James…"

Hermione shook her head, leaning forward excitedly in her seat. "No, Remus, not his father… it's his Patronus!" Albus' gaze shot to Hermione, an excited gleam in his blue eyes that could be seen even from across the room.   

Potter's head whipped around to stare at the still-glowing words on the wall, his lips moving silently. "That makes sense, 'Mione… more sense than anything else I came up with. But what about my Patronus? Use it against Voldemort? How? And what blade?" Hermione chewed her lip, then finally shook her head in defeat.

"I don't know, Harry."

"But that is an excellent start, Hermione. I agree that that is the most likely conclusion… but whether it indicates that Voldemort will gain complete control over the Dementors and we should be prepared, or something else entirely…" Dumbledore shook his head. 

"The Blood Rites will conquer the shadow," Moody quoted in a low, raspy voice. Looking at the old Auror, Severus was caught in his gaze. It almost seemed as if the older wizard was trying to tell him something… of course, Moody was the only other person in the room who understood the true implications of the Blood Rites. 

And, consequently, one of the two people in the room who could successfully perform them. 

To Severus' surprise, Hagrid's voice broke their soundless communication. The half-giant generally remained silent during Order meetings unless he was addressed specifically. "Well, I dunno what yer prophecy might mean, Professor Dumbledore, but as fer me, I'm a bit more worried about our Hermione if You-Know-Who comes ter hear about it." 

A small frown line appeared on Hermione's forehead. "I'll be fine, Hagrid, but thank you for worrying. You'd do better to worry about Harry, though. I have enough keepers al-"

Severus sensed that she was beginning to pick up speed and interjected smoothly, "It is being taken care of, Hagrid. We are not cataloging it with the Ministry as of yet, and I can assure you that even should the Dark Lord hear of it, I will do what I can to misdirect him. Hermione will be safe." Her fingernails were now biting into his hand. It was actually rather painful, but he was accustomed to dealing with worse pain – such as slicing hexes from Lucius - and was able to keep his expression clear. Much to Hermione's evident displeasure. He had to bite back a chuckle at the angry flush that rose to her cheeks when she received no reaction from her nails.

"The only people who know of the prophecy aside from those in this room are Ginny Weasley and two young ladies who have sworn a wand-oath to discuss it with no one other than Harry, myself, or Severus," Dumbledore said soothingly, and Hagrid sat back with a satisfied nod. "And that does bring me to the extreme secrecy of this prophecy. As Severus said, we are not reporting it to the Ministry. There are simply too many eyes and ears of Voldemort's located there. Lucius Malfoy being, of course, the highest placed."

"That we know of," Severus said coolly. 

"That we know of," Albus acknowledged. 

The meeting then turned to a few more musings concerning the prophecy, and some basic information that had been gathered at the recent Death Eater meetings – none of which, of course, was news to Severus. Or Hermione, for that matter, as Severus had provided her the pertinent information over the course of the week.

Finally, the meeting was called to a close, with agreements to continue thinking over the meaning of the prophecy. Thoughts that would most likely prove fruitless, in Severus' estimation. From prior experience, prophecies only made sense after the fact, and did little to shed light on a situation before it occurred. Leaning close to Hermione, Severus said, "And now is the inevitable 'milling about' and 'socializing' portion of the evening's events. I generally skip it-" Hermione cut him off.

"Well, I want to speak with the Weasleys, and Harry, before-" Severus said nothing, simply raising an eyebrow at the interruption, and Hermione subsided. 

Satisfied that she had stopped, he said smoothly, "As I was saying, I generally skip it, but I will… linger… if you feel you absolutely must speak to some of these people before we escape." She gave him an impudent smile and stood, releasing his hand as she did so.

As she walked off to visit with her friends, he found - to his surprise - that he rather missed the contact.

_____________________________________________________________

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please review!!

For anyone who is interested in fic recs, I'm going to start posting one or two at the bottom of each chapter. My very first is:

"At Any Moment" by Ozratbag2 – appears on lordandladysnape.net, fanfiction.net, and adultfanfiction.net 

A very intelligently written story that's constructed in a very original way – via journal entries by different characters. I don't want to even try to summarize it for fear of giving anything away – it's a WIP. 

Serpens Potio – I'm glad you liked that line! And I can't comment on anything else, because I don't want to give anything away.

Mistress Nymphadora – Can't answer your question, but rest assured there is no vampire in this fic. I haven't read or seen any Anne Rice stuff… other than Interview with a Vampire and a small hint – nope, not like that ;). Thank you for your comments!

Dakota – I'm afraid that's a read and find out answer… thanks for the review!

Sparkly_lairy_fights – Thanks – I thought up the Call of the Blood while grocery shopping and thought it would be great to explain that whole Shrieking Shack scene. Elsewhere in the books he's so very controlled, even during the OotP argument with Sirius his voice goes lower when he gets angry, so I wanted something to explain it. I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Wallflower – I still got some complaints that it was dark even after the warnings, can you believe? Thanks for your comments, I'm so glad you're enjoying it!

Smothered Light, Tasya, Arafel2, Dru – Thanks for reviewing!!!


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize (i.e. the Call of the Blood) is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 15

~~~~~~~

Hermione raced up the steps to the Entrance Hall. She was already late to meet Ginny… the redhead wanted to get back in plenty of time for the afternoon match against Slytherin, and so they planned to meet immediately after breakfast. Most of the older students wouldn't leave until later.

"There you are! I was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten."

Hermione shook her head, conjuring a smile as she tried to slow her breathing. _Really need to start exercising…_. "Of course not, Ginny. I was just running a little behind this morning." Ginny shot her an amused look, which Hermione ignored, and they made their way out of the castle and down the path to Hogsmeade. 

A pack of exuberant third years barreled past them, and Hermione shook her head in amusement. She could remember how excited she had been to be allowed off of Hogwarts property in her own third year… 

Ginny shot her a sly look and said, in a deceptively casual tone, "So, I noticed you weren't at breakfast. Neither was Professor Snape."

"We ate in the room."

"I bet you did," Ginny said, smirking. Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"Do you know you sound exactly like Lavender and Parvati right now?" Hermione's chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh when she turned to see the expression on Ginny's face. "All right, then, maybe not that bad… relax." Ginny shook her head and they continued along the path to Hogsmeade.

After a quick stop in Honeydukes, the two young women spent most of their time browsing in Gladrags Wizardwear, choosing a number of robes and clothes appropriate for Hermione's new position. Ginny gave cutting commentary on a number of Hermione's choices.

"No, that one will make you look like a grandmother, Hermione. Put it back," Ginny ordered, going through another rack quickly. Hermione shook her head with a small grin. It was really a shame the Weasleys weren't more affluent; Ginny was a born shopper. She wiped the grin from her face when Ginny turned to her with a number of robes draped over her arm. "Here, try these."

"Yes, ma'am," Hermione said sarcastically. Ginny just laughed and pushed her towards the dressing room. 

Hermione ended up purchasing the robes Ginny had picked out, smiling a little at the smug expression on the redhead's face. She also chose a number of pajama sets and nightgowns, ignoring the raised eyebrow from her companion. As she stood at the counter, Ginny disappeared from her side, only to reappear a moment later with three silky lengths in her hands. "Get these, too, Hermione."

Hermione looked at the gowns Ginny had placed on the counter and flushed a bit. "Ginny, those are-"

"Get them, Hermione. You're a newlywed, and weren't you just saying…" Ginny trailed off when she saw the proprietor watching them with unconcealed interest. Giving the man a dirty look, she said, "Remember the conversation with Lavender and Parvati the other night? Well… just get them. They may come in useful."

The proprietor raised a questioning eyebrow at Hermione and with a sigh she nodded for him to include the gowns with her purchases. _Gods, could it be any more revealing? _she thought, eyeing one particular gown as the shopkeeper packed it away with her other items. At least the fabric – what little of it there was – was an attractive color. 

As they walked out of the shop, Hermione was shocked to see how much time had passed. They did a quick stop in Zonko's to say hello to Fred and George before heading to the Three Broomsticks to have some butterbeers and talk. 

"So… did you have your angry sex yet?" Ginny asked in a low voice, her eyes twinkling in amusement. Hermione scowled at her theatrically.

"No. It's… it's not that I want that, exactly. It just seems like it's more for me than for him, do you know what I mean?"

"Hermione, all of my boyfriends have been teenagers. So no, I have no idea what you mean."

"Oh."

Ginny started laughing. "I'm kidding – seriously, Dean is like that. Was like that. He's better now – he was so worried all the time if I was enjoying myself that he wasn't relaxed. It's worked out now. He's really the only one I've slept with, anyway."

Hermione shook her head slightly. "That's not quite what I mean… Severus seems relaxed, it's not that… it's more like… I don't know, like he's holding back. I just want to see him lose control, you know? To know I did that to him."

Ginny looked at her seriously and put her butterbeer down. "I don't know, Hermione. Do you really want him to... not hold back? I mean… well, he was a Death Eater, and still acts as one."

"Those rumors are kind of exaggerated, Ginny."

Ginny gave her a skeptical look before saying, "Well, even if they are, I can't imagine that crowd is very… prudish, you know? I bet they're into a lot of strange stuff. Just… maybe it's for the best that he's holding back, Hermione." 

"Maybe," Hermione said. "But… I guess I'd just like to find out. I mean, it's so good like this, I just wonder…" She chuckled when she saw Ginny's expression. "I know you don't believe it, but he's really not as bad as people think. And I… well, I think he's pretty sexy."

"I'm glad you're happy with him, don't get me wrong… but I just don't see it. I mean, he's not very good-looking."

"_Good looking?_" Hermione said derisively. "_Malfoy_ is good looking. I'm not interested in good looking." The younger witch shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and Hermione's voice softened. "It's all right, Ginny – I know he's not the pretty type. But that's not what I'm into, anyway… not now. When I was twelve, maybe… Severus is… different. Intriguing."

"Well, you kind of have a history with dark, brooding, big-nosed men, don't you?"

Hermione shrugged uneasily. "I suppose… well, Viktor and I are just friends-"

"Now," Ginny interjected.

"Right. It was never any big romance, really, Ginny," Hermione said, taking a sip of her butterbeer. 

"But you were attracted to him."

"Not at first. Not until after I got to know him a little better," Hermione said slowly. "But Severus… it's different. Kind of. I already knew him… well, at least one part of him, before I-"

"Before you became attracted to him."

"Yeah."

The sounds of the bar rose and fell as they sat in silence, both lost in their thoughts. Finally, Ginny looked directly at Hermione and said, "You're falling for him, aren't you?"

"What?"

"You are. You're falling for him."

"Well, what if I am? He's my husband, after all," Hermione said defensively. 

"It's…" Ginny stopped, looking uncertain until Hermione gestured for her to continue. "Is it… I mean, is it just physical?"

Hermione burst out laughing. "Ginny, you were just telling me how unattractive he is, and now you think I'm… getting some feelings for him because it's physical?"

"He's not unattractive to _you_, though, Hermione."

At Ginny's serious tone, Hermione's laughter subsided. Looking down at the table, she shook her head. "No. No, it's not just physical. It's… he's brilliant, and really quite funny when you get used to his humor… he can be very charming, Ginny. He's fascinating… and he doesn't-" Hermione paused a moment before continuing, "Well, he doesn't expect me to be something other than what I am. And I like that. It's… he's… I just _like _him."

"All right." Ginny took a sip of butterbeer. "I'm… I'm glad. I'm glad you like him." The redhead's eyes were shadowed and Hermione swallowed hard. 

"Thanks… I… you know I would have been happy with Ron, Ginny. It's not-"

"I know. Don't worry about it." Ginny took a deep breath and sat back, staring down at her hands. "I miss him. A lot."

"So do I," Hermione whispered. "Sometimes I'll see something funny and think that I've got to tell Ron about it, or mention it in my next owl to my parents… it's strange. I don't know."

Ginny nodded. "I know." Giving Hermione a hard stare, she said, "You have to stay safe, Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's getting a little old, Ginny… I'm not some damsel in distress, you know. I can take care of myself."

Ginny pursed her lips. "Right. No one can take care of themselves against a group of armed Death Eaters, Hermione. Just… it's what Ron was trying to do, it's what he died trying to do. Don't make his death mean nothing." 

A wave of guilt washed over Hermione and tears pricked her eyes. Taking a few deep breaths, she concentrated on regaining control. After a moment, she said in a low voice, "I will be careful, Ginny. But I also won't stop living."

"No one's asking you to, Hermione."

"You're not, maybe. But Harry didn't even want me to come here with you… if there hadn't been a Quidditch match this afternoon I'm sure he'd have insisted on following us." _And if I hadn't snapped his head off when he suggested it… _she thought. 

Ginny made a face. "He's been overprotective of me, too, Hermione. I think it's just a reaction…"

"It's understandable, but it's still irritating."

"Yeah. I guess I'm just used to it. With as many… as many older brothers as I have… it's been the story of my life," Ginny said with a small smile.

Hermione returned the smile. "That's true."

Silence fell between the two as they both lost themselves in thought. Hermione found the rise and fall of conversations around them to be rather soothing, and she felt herself relaxing. And then…

"How bad was it, Hermione? No one will tell me… was it quick?" 

Hermione froze, her momentary relaxation forgotten. 

_Oh my God… Hermione, don't look! No, don't look!_

Realizing she had been silent too long, Hermione cleared her throat. "It was… it was…" Hermione's voice failed her and Ginny looked down at the table, stricken. 

"So it wasn't, then." Spoken in a mere whisper.

"I… I don't know, really Ginny. It was… it could have been quick…" Hermione faltered as she recalled her question to Severus the other morning. _The Blood Rites were performed on Ron, weren't they? _And his grave answering nod. 

"Tell me, Hermione." Ginny raised her head. "I know people are just trying to protect me, especially Harry, but you were there, too. I deserve to know. He was my brother."

As Hermione met the redhead's gaze… the gaze of her friend, the gaze of Ron's sister… she couldn't find it in herself to lie. Not even to spare Ginny the pain… Hermione knew, all too well, that hearing the truth was far better than not knowing… better than allowing your imagination to come up with new and more terrible things every time you permitted yourself to think of it… 

And so, in halting words, Hermione told her. Not everything – she didn't mention the bluish tinge of his skin, nor the extent of his injuries… she mentioned the blood, but not the sheer volume. And she told the redhead that a blade had been used. Ginny immediately picked up on that.

"A Dark ritual?"

Hermione swallowed. "Severus seems to think so." Ginny just nodded.

"Blood magic. It was one of Tom's favorite things…" Ginny's voice trailed off and Hermione looked at her with concern. The redhead rarely mentioned the things she had learned from Tom Riddle, the things she had experienced, during the incident with the diary in her first year. "Thanks for telling me, Hermione."  

Suddenly, Hermione's attention was caught by the reflection of a familiar white-blond head in the mirror over the bar. _Malfoy._ Catching Ginny's eye, she nodded imperceptibly to the door where Draco and his two shadows had just entered. In tacit agreement, the two girls gathered their belongings and threw some coins on the table.

_Not quick enough, _Hermione thought with annoyance when Draco strolled up to the table just as they stood.

"Leaving so soon, Granger?" he said with another poor attempt at a supercilious sneer. Hermione's eyes narrowed. 

"Hermione, let's just go," Ginny whispered, pulling on her sleeve. But Hermione wasn't going to back down in front of Malfoy. It was a public place, with plenty of witnesses… it wasn't like he could do anything, even with his two cronies behind him. 

Not to mention, he had a Quidditch match that afternoon, which would certainly cut into his kidnapping-and-torture time. 

"Don't you have a Quidditch match to prepare for? And it's not Granger anymore, Draco. Remember?" Hermione said coldly. She was startled by the malevolent glint in the silver-gray eyes and had to stop herself from taking a step back. 

"Right. See you back at Hogwarts." Another angry flash. "Mrs. Snape." 

Ginny took her arm and urged her from the building. She followed without resistance, turning her head only once to see Draco staring after them, a strangely frustrated expression on his face.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Severus was quite pleased with the array of robes the Weasley girl had talked Hermione into purchasing, particularly as it meant he no longer had to accompany her clothes shopping. There were very few tortures that even the Dark Lord could devise that would be worse than that, in his opinion. He did raise an eyebrow when she stashed a few small pieces of silk in the wardrobe without letting him see them. It appeared that the Weasley chit had talked her into a bit more than casual nightwear… but the flush on his wife's face told him that he would have some time before he would profit from the Weasley girl's influence.

Several days passed uneventfully, aside from Severus gaining an even greater appreciation for the… _side benefits_… of this plan that Dumbledore had concocted. His young wife was not only responsive but also open to suggestion, and his morning showers had thankfully taken on an entirely new dimension. He still forced himself to hold back, not willing to tempt the Call any farther than necessary. As open to suggestion as she had proven to be, he suspected that what the Call demanded would be too far from her idea of _making love. _

With these thoughts in mind, he sat back in his desk chair and stared at her as she marked second year Transfiguration papers. He had acquired another desk for her use, but she still preferred to sprawl on the rug in front of the fireplace. He smiled slightly as she shook her head, the hair she had piled on her head perilously close to escaping its confines. He marveled at the sheer height of it. "Are they complete idiots? Or did they not even bother to open the book at all?" she snapped.

"I ask myself that question daily."

Her head shot up and her face flushed. "I'm sorry – I didn't know that was out loud."

"Think nothing of it. I understand completely." Suddenly, a burning pain in his left arm appeared and he stood. "I'm being Summoned."

"You're… oh. You did say you thought it would be soon," she said, scrambling up from the floor and following him into the bedroom.

"Yes. Floo the Headmaster – I dare not be late to this meeting."

She nodded as he pulled his Death Eater garb from the wardrobe. "Be… be careful."

Reaching out, he touched her cheek and then lowered his head to brush his lips against hers. As he pulled back, she wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug, the hard edges of the mask in its hidden pocket digging into his thigh as she pressed against him. He blinked in surprise before bringing his own arms around her. She was shaking. "Hermione…"

She pulled back then. "I'll… I'll wait up for you. Be careful."

"I will," he said, looking at her with curiosity. "Hermione, what-"

"I wish I could do something… something to help…"

"You can. Floo Albus."

"No, I mean something to help you with this," she said, indicating his Death Eater garb. She shook her head with a small smile. "I guess I'm just not very good at the whole sit-at-home-while-the-men-go-off-to-war thing."  

Severus shook his head, striding to the hidden box on the bedside table and pulling out the Portkeys. "I hope you are able to continue to play that part for as long as possible, Hermione. Soon enough he will request your presence, also."

"That'll be easier, I think."

"For you, perhaps," Severus said dryly, fingering the Portkey that would take him to the Shrieking Shack. "I will return."

Hermione nodded and walked up to him, kissing him swiftly. "Go."

A short time later, he appeared with a pop in a large field. There were no visible structures, and the stars were bright in the sky – suggesting that they were far from any Muggle cities. Only a few of the Inner Circle were present and he was relieved that he would be able to give his report in relative privacy. The fewer ears listening, the better. 

As soon as he appeared, the Dark Lord gestured him over. Immediately Severus walked in front of the powerful wizard and dropped to his knees. The ground was still damp from the day's rain and the knees of his trousers were quickly soaked through.

"My Lord."

"Rise, Severus. I understand things are going well with our little... project."

"Yes, my Lord. It does appear so."

Red slitted eyes met his, and he carefully spun out selected images. Teaching class… Hermione beneath him, begging him, her neck arching as she cried out… himself, holding her in the Head Girl's rooms… Hermione cleaning his shoulder after the last meeting… lunch with Minerva, watching an owl come towards him… disciplining two Slytherin second years in the common room… Hermione, asking him if they had to wait until Saturday…

 "Very good, Severus. It appears you have the chit well under way to coming under your thumb. Under your influence. And once she is firmly under your influence… it will be an interesting day when Potter realizes where her loyalties lie."

"Yes, my Lord." Severus bowed his head. "And even before then, she will be a good source of information. She has mentioned small things already in my presence, things she thought to be insignificant. Potter is increasingly fearful, my Lord… he is concerned that in this, his Seventh Year, you will rise in power strongly and force him to face you. His fear eats at him, making him weak."

The Dark Lord smiled approvingly. "Very good, Severus. Your plan, and its success, will speak loudly towards your loyalty."

"Thank you, my Lord."

"She must be brought before me. I will see the truth behind her eyes." 

"It is early, yet, my Lord." He met the Dark Lord's eyes again, carefully spinning out more images. Hermione, weeping over her mother's ring... Hermione's voice shaking as she stood before him, saying, 'He was there… when Ron was killed_'_… Potter, pushing Draco away as he leaned over to whisper in Hermione's ear… 

"There have been a few… minor setbacks. I would not wish for her trust in me to be shaken so early, by bringing her in front of her enemies."

"So she now knows the identities of her parents' killers. And of her boyfriend's killers."

"Yes, my Lord. One of them, at the very least." Severus bowed his head to hide the exultation in his eyes. If the Dark Lord should take Lucius' attempts at meddling with the plan the way Severus hoped… but it was not to be so.

"And you have been able to take advantage of her… instability… as a result?" 

"Of course, my Lord," Severus said, seething inwardly. Damn Lucius! He must have spoken to the Dark Lord prior to the meeting, or at least prior to Severus' arrival. Well, there was nothing for it now but to play along with the game Malfoy had set.   

"Well done, Severus. And Lucius." The Dark Lord paused and gestured to Pettigrew. As the former Gryffindor stepped forward, the Dark Lord touched his finger to the Dark Mark on Pettigrew's arm and called the lesser Death Eaters to him.

Severus settled in for a long wait, and noticed Rodolphus doing the same next to him. It was a weeknight and many would have to make excuses to extricate themselves from whatever task they were involved in. However, he knew of three members who should appear immediately.

And they did. With a pop, Draco and his two sidekicks appeared. Even with the concealing garb, it was simple to pick out the slighter frame of the Malfoy heir. Pulling the chain of the Time-Turner from the other two boys' necks, Draco settled it around his own and strolled to his place outside the main circle.  

Lucius had acquired a Time-Turner to allow the three boys to attend meetings without raising the suspicions of Dumbledore. After the meeting, the three boys would use the Time-Turner to go back to the time that they left, leaving none of the professors the wiser. 

The meeting dragged on interminably. Only strict discipline kept Severus upright and at attention. From the corner of his eye, he saw the younger Malfoy shifting from foot to foot impatiently. He sneered behind his mask; doubtless the fool boy had thought those ridiculous rumors about Dark Revels were true, despite what his father had told him. The Dark Lord was repeating the typical rhetoric to his loyal followers, and it appeared that a group of new recruits would be attending the next few meetings to be initiated properly. Severus winced inwardly – those meetings were generally distasteful. Without fail at least one of the new recruits would foolishly speak up at the wrong time, or say the wrong thing, and meet a quick end. The Dark Lord did not suffer fools gladly. His eyes cut to the younger Malfoy and he sneered. _Unless their fathers are rich and have a great deal of influence, _he amended.

Finally, the meeting drew to a close and the Dark Lord left the Death Eaters to socialize as they saw fit. Of course, Pettigrew – the Dark Lord's eyes and ears - was still in attendance, as usual. Severus wondered, not for the first time, about Pettigrew's purpose in joining with the Dark Lord… the man received little in return for his loyalty, other than his life. And, from what Severus could see, it wasn't much of one. Standing on the fringe, watching the other Death Eaters mingle… even his own mentor, assigned to him when he first joined the Death Eaters, ignored him. 

Severus shook his head and moved through the gathering, speaking casually with a number of the lesser Death Eaters before making his way to where the Inner Circle stood. He normally left soon after the Dark Lord, but with his new position in the hierarchy came certain expectations. And it could only benefit him to keep up with the casual rumors and social structure of the group. 

As he approached the Inner Circle group, Severus noted Viktor Krum standing to the side, deep in conversation with Draco Malfoy. Draco was frowning as he spoke, and Viktor looked over at Severus with a dangerous look in his eyes. Their eyes met for a split second before Viktor turned away – not enough time for Severus to read anything from his mind. As he watched the Bulgarian's tense stance, a suspicion took root in his mind. He was so lost in thought that he didn't hear Lucius approach.

"So, Severus – how are things with your Mudblood bride?"

"Acceptable, Lucius." Severus' voice was cool and clipped. "It would be a bit easier if your son stopped giving her little tokens of his affection, shall we say?"

Lucius laughed. "Oh, no need to thank me, Severus. It did work to drive her into your arms further, did it not?"

"Perhaps."

Lucius' eyes glittered strangely. "Not perhaps, my friend. You forget that I am on the Marriage Council – I am aware that you have more than fulfilled the copulation charm's requirements." Lucius gave a short laugh. "It appears your stamina has not suffered in the least over the years."

Snape's lip curled beneath his mask, but he kept his voice level as he said, "The girl is an… acceptable distraction. I must admit I am rather enjoying the side benefits."

"As is she, I'm sure," Lucius commented mildly.

"As she must, Lucius. I am trying to manipulate her – young people are easily fooled into thinking physical attraction equals emotional attraction. I need her trust, not her fear. It's quite simple, really – but if _you _need me to explain further I'm willing to assist you in understanding." Severus smirked, though he knew Lucius couldn't see it. "I promise to speak slowly."

Lucius paused a moment, his eyes narrowed, and then he began to laugh. "Ah, Severus – I have always enjoyed your dry humor. Now," the blond man said, his voice changing to a more conciliatory tone. "Enough about the Mudblood. You seem to have things well in hand, though I may assist you again. No, no – don't thank me, friend. I insist." Lucius' eyes turned cold once more and Severus bit back a protest. There was no purpose in goading the man – he would just have to warn Hermione that more little "gifts" might be appearing. "On a more pleasant subject, I haven't had a chance to congratulate you on the fabulous match your House played this past weekend. It's good to see Slytherin rising once more."

Severus smiled behind the mask, allowing it to reach his eyes. "Yes, it is – and I must say your son performed admirably. Your support of the team, of course, assisted with our victory." _Politics, _he thought, sighing inwardly. Still, coddling Lucius had its advantages – the more at ease the man was, the more he may let slip. And the less suspicious he would be of Severus' loyalties. 

"Ah, yes, the new broomsticks. Think nothing of it, friend. If there is anything else I can do to assist, you will inform me at once." An order, not a request. Severus nodded genially. 

"As… _pleasant_… as this conversation has been, Lucius, I must return and make my report to Dumbledore," he said, allowing a note of amusement to enter his voice. Lucius laughed appreciatively.

"Yes, of course, make your report and get back to your little plaything. Enjoy yourself. Until next time, Severus."

_Enjoy myself… yes, Lucius, I certainly will. _

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

_I really must remember to thank Viktor again for this journal. It's the most thoughtful gift anyone's given me – amazing how he knew just what I would need with everything that was going on. He's a true friend._

_The week has gone by quickly – the second week of my marriage. Today is our two-week anniversary… strange to think of it that way. Things are going rather well with Severus – surprisingly well, really. Draco, on the other hand, is just as much of a pain as always. Seeing his face around Hogwarts when I know he had something to do with Ron's death… it's just almost too much sometimes. The only thing that gets me through meals sometimes is the image of how he looked after I smacked him in third year… that is a beautiful memory… I can still remember Ron's face after I did it. Too bad I'm not likely to have another opportunity, unless he falls out of favor with the Dark Lord. Then I could beg the Death Eaters to let me have a crack at him first… of course that would never happen, but I can always dream._

_Strange, I'm even beginning to think of him like that – the Dark Lord - instead of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or Voldemort. I suppose Severus is rubbing off on me. _

_It's still a little tense with Harry. It's slowly going back to the way it was before I married Severus… Harry saw that it had to happen, but he certainly wasn't happy about it. Viktor was a lot more supportive, actually… but he also hasn't hated Severus for years. Harry still hasn't learned that people are more than just their outer appearance, or the title of the group they belong to. While I obviously can't agree with the Death Eaters' principles, the individuals involved are still people. Except for the Malfoys… they're some sort of strange sub-human species, definitely. And Severus is a spy, he's not a Death Eater anymore. I don't see why Harry still mistrusts him, because honestly… and I'd only admit this here, in this journal… I think I trust Severus now more than anyone else alive._

_And that's saying a lot._

_We've gotten a lot closer over the last few weeks – he seems to really understand me. He's still a bastard, of course – that's him after all… and I kind of like it. He's even fun to argue with – he doesn't get hurt feelings like Harry does, so it's easier to just let go and say what I think. I don't have to always hold back. And… the physical side of it is amazing, nothing short of amazing. I'm still kind of shy – he's so much more experienced than I am – but it's getting easier to suggest sex to him… probably because I don't seem to have to worry about being turned down! At least not so far… and he was even really understanding when I was too squicked to think about sex the last few days… he may not have a problem with it, but I don't think I'm ready to do something like that while I'm bleeding. Luckily, it seems like my period's almost over now so we can get back to showering together in the morning. And other things._

_It's confusing… I don't even know what I feel about Severus anymore. I've always respected him, and I've come to like him now, also… but when I lay there at night next to him, I feel like there may be something more. But I just don't know. It seems too quick. _

_I'm scared, too… Severus said that the Dark Lord would want to meet me eventually. I'm not scared – really – about meeting the Dark Lord… but how am I supposed to face the Malfoys without hexing them? I don't think that would be a good idea – to hex a high-ranking Death Eater in the presence of the Dark Lord. Figure that'd earn me an Avada Kedavra for sure. And while it may be worth it, if I could take Malfoy down with me… it would bring some trouble to Severus, I'm sure. And I couldn't stand it if anything happened to him. _

Hermione sighed and shut the journal, rubbing her eyes. She was glad it was Saturday. It had been a difficult week, in many ways. Severus had been on edge since his Summons the week before and he now insisted on nightly Occlumency lessons. Which would have been easier had she not already been exhausted with her apprentice work on higher-level Transfiguration theory. 

She had chosen non-solid Transfiguration as her primary topic of study and while it was exciting, Minerva had warned that it was without a doubt the most difficult area of Transfiguration. So far, that appeared to be true. She had worked the entire week to Transfigure a cup of water into a solid ball, and had been only partially successful. Minerva had been delighted with her progress even though her ball still had the tendency to melt on the table after a few minutes. However, frozen water acted as any other solid during Transfiguration, which piqued her curiosity. The next time she and Severus traveled to Diagon Alley she planned on heading into London to pick up some Muggle texts on chemistry and physics. Perhaps some study on the molecular construct of liquids and solids would assist her in her work. 

The Halloween Feast had been held the evening before. She had been tense throughout the meal, secretly worried that the Dark Lord would Summon Severus either during or after the Feast. There were so many blood rituals that were believed to be more potent when performed on that night of the year… She had finally relaxed near the end and was engaged in a rather pleasant conversation with Professor Sinistra's apprentices when she saw Severus stand and leave the table abruptly. Making her excuses, she had raced back to their rooms – heart in her throat - only to find him draining a headache relief potion. When she told him her concerns he had simply shaken his head. "The Aurors are all on alert this night, Hermione. The Dark Lord knows better than to call a meeting on Samhain, particularly after what occurred the last time he attempted an important mission on that night." She had swallowed hard at that… the night Harry's parents had been killed, and the night the wizarding world – with the exception of a select few – believed the Dark Lord had been defeated by Harry Potter. She had changed the subject adroitly, and they had discussed the next journal entry for a short time before going to bed. 

Now, in the early morning light, Hermione sat back on the couch, laying the journal on the cushion beside her. She had woken an hour before and been unable to get back to sleep. After thirty minutes of lying there, snuggled against her husband, she had finally untangled herself and headed to the study to work on the journal. She had told Severus that some girls wrote in them nightly, but she had always been in the habit of writing only when her thoughts were overflowing. It had been two weeks since the last entry, when she and Ginny had run into Draco in Hogsmeade. 

She was amazed at just how much of this journal entry was the truth. It was almost as if Severus _was _manipulating her, but with her full knowledge. She shook her head, frowning a little. Her thoughts were interrupted by a silky voice coming from the doorway to the bedroom.

"_Incendio_."

The fire roared to life and she turned to look at Severus, letting out a breath when she saw that he was still bare-chested, clad in only the loose trousers he preferred to sleep in. 

When he wore anything, that is.

"Good morning," she said as he advanced towards her. He flicked his eyes to the journal sitting beside her and nodded a greeting.

"Unable to sleep?"

"I woke up about an hour ago and couldn't get back to sleep. I finally gave up and thought I'd get the journal entry out of the way." 

"I see. No dreams, then?" 

"No," she said firmly. "Nothing disturbing, at least." No, the dreams hadn't been disturbing in the least… She colored slightly, cursing her tendency to flush so easily. And then, after seeing the smirk on his face, she cursed his ability to read her expressions so easily. 

"Indeed," he commented casually, moving the journal from the cushion next to her and setting it on the table before seating himself. "Nothing disturbing. That is… intriguing. And just what were you dreaming about, then?"

"Oh, no. It's a secret. I couldn't possibly tell you," she said playfully, smiling when she saw one eyebrow go up.

"Maybe I could… persuade you… to speak?" he said in a low voice, lowering his mouth to hers in a slow, gentle kiss. When he pulled back, her breath caught at the look in his eyes.

"Um… I'm still…"

"I told you that that doesn't bother me, my dear," he said huskily, kissing her again before pulling back. "But since it is an uncomfortable idea to you…"

"It's just… well, it would be messy, with the blood…" She trailed off when his breath caught. Her mouth dropped open as she realized why. "Oh… the Call…"

He tensed and glanced at her shrewdly before pulling away completely.  

"That's why you don't have an issue with it, isn't it? The Call… does it… would it help-"

He shook his head. "Everything we do assists in keeping the Call… satisfied, as you are relatively inexperienced. Though at times the Call tries to demand more…" He frowned.

"If it would help, I suppose we could-" 

He cut her off curtly. 

"No." She looked at him in bewilderment, and he shook his head with a sigh. "It is far too early in the morning for a drawn out discussion concerning the Call of the Blood, Hermione."

"Can you explain why not, at least? Just yesterday you were trying-"

"I am aware of that," he said, running a hand through his hair. Finally he sighed. "The Call… works subtly at times. So subtly that even I cannot detect it… while at other times it screams its presence in my veins."

"And this was one of the subtle times?"

"Correct. Easily subdued, once identified," he said casually, standing from the couch. "Although, if I tempt it by giving in – when blood or an Unforgivable is involved - it is that much harder to control the next time."

"Oh." Hermione bit her lip, her mind racing. It seemed that every time Severus spoke of the Call, new information came out… she wondered just what else he wasn't telling her. She watched him as he floo'ed the kitchens for breakfast, and as he stood up straight she finally gathered the courage to ask, "What… what else is there to the Call? It seems like each time you speak of it, there is more and more to it."

Severus' back muscles tensed for a moment before he took a breath and turned to face her. "You ask me to give, in one easy lesson, the knowledge gathered by decades of experience and study? You should know that is not how the world works, Hermione. As things occur to me, I will tell you. Those things which I feel you should know."

"Those things you feel I should know," she echoed sullenly.

"Correct." 

Realizing from his clipped tone that she would get no more out of him, she sat back and forced herself to relax. Suddenly, a wicked smile grew on her face. "Fine. You can make it up to me by taking me into Muggle London today."

He scowled, but did not protest, and she grinned triumphantly.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

"Concentrate, Hermione," Severus snapped. It was two weeks since he had been Summoned, a week since their trip into Muggle London, and Hermione had noticed his patience growing thinner at each of their nightly lessons – even though she was steadily improving. 

"I _am _concentrating, Severus! I kept you from seeing most of the day's images," Hermione protested, scowling. It was getting frustrating. "And if this is you practicing patience then I'd hate to see you impatient. Oh, wait – I have seen that, how could I forget?" she said sarcastically. 

"Oh, indeed. You have not _seen _impatient yet, Hermione. What time do you think we have? I cannot stall the Dark Lord forever without calling my own loyalties into question," he snapped, black eyes flashing. "Forgive me if I don't find it constructive to coddle you during these lessons."

"I blocked you, I don't know what you're so angry about. I can do this," Hermione protested, pushing her hair back from her face. 

"You can do this?" Severus advanced on her like a cat stalking its prey. Involuntarily, she fell back a step. "Then prove it to me, Hermione. Block all memories of… let's say - these chambers – from your mind."

"But I'm here all the time, how can I-"

He cut her off brusquely. 

"You said you could do it. And you did successfully block all images of Minerva's office. So… let's see how far you can stretch it, shall we?" Without a pause, his eyes locked on hers and she could _feel _him watching the images coming from her mind. 

_Just block… just block… I can do it… _She concentrated; sweat beading on her forehead as she felt him begin to rifle through her memories… no longer just waiting to see what images would spin out. So he was determined to prove her wrong, was he? Well, she wouldn't allow it… _Concentrate… _

Images flowed… Ginny and Hermione, laughing in the Three Broomsticks… her mother, singing while washing dishes… Crookshanks, batting at a fly… Severus, holding her in the Head Girl's rooms… a puppy she had as a child, gamboling about the backyard while she chased after it, laughing… Draco placing a small wrapped package in front of her in the Great Hall… 

THWUMP!

She jumped, losing her concentration and other images flowed out before she could stop them… Dumbledore and Severus seated in the study, discussing the plan… Severus showing her the bathtub… Hermione placing the Dark Arts books on the upper shelf of the wardrobe, hiding them with clothes… Severus taking down her hair, so slowly…

"_What _was that?" Severus hissed. 

"I don't know – some loud nois-"

"I caused the noise to see how strong your concentration actually was, you silly little girl," he snapped. His eyes narrowed and he grabbed her shoulders tightly, bringing her face closer to his. In a whispered hiss, he said, "Why were you covering the books?"

_Oh, Gods… he saw… _"Um… I… I just… w-wanted to."

Severus' face grew thunderous. "Do not try to hide things from me!"

Wrenching herself from his grasp, she cried out, "I'm not hiding things from you!"

"Aren't you? Did you forget that I can read emotions with the images, you silly child?" Severus said sleekly, steel in his tone.

"Well… even if I was, is that really so terrible? How many things do you hide from me?"

"That is immaterial!" Severus yelled. He stopped for a moment before continuing in a carefully controlled voice, "I allowed you to keep those books because they were simple, to satisfy your curiosity… I didn't want you to go to Knockturn Alley behind my back and acquire others. Others more potent. I _thought_ you would have the presence of mind to ask my counsel if the lure became too great. Obviously I was incorrect." Severus' eyes flashed again. "I should have extracted a wand-oath from you. I would have, had I known what a foolish child you would be."

"I'm not a child!"

"Correct – you are a woman who is acting like a child! Which is much worse! Use the brains that you have, woman! Why ever would you not tell me, Hermione?" Anger suffused his tone, but also something else. 

_Tell him everything! _

_No. He will only put more restrictions on you… you need the knowledge…_

_Each step seems but a small one._

_If you want them to pay, you will have to gain the knowledge…_

_They will pay. I will make them pay._

"I… I didn't think it mattered… the lure wasn't too much… and I knew you would react like this…" she fumbled, frantically trying to think of something to make him calm down. 

"You're bloody right I would! If they're luring you so much that you have to hide them…"

"No, Severus – they're fine, it's fine. I didn't _have _to hide them. I haven't even pulled them out since that day. Honestly. They've been there ever since. I feel the urge, sometimes, but it's not overpowering," Hermione said, disgusted with herself when she caught the pleading note in her voice. 

Severus stood completely still for a long moment before fixing his gaze on her. "Did I not tell you of the subtlety of the Call, Hermione?"

She gaped at him, alarmed. "But… but I would have to read a Book of the Blood to be taken by the Call, and I haven't!"

"How can I be certain, particularly now? How do I know you're not concealing that from me, also?" he spat, and her mouth dropped open in shock. And anger.

"Look then, why don't you? Just take a look, in my mind – you can see it. I saw the book twice – the day I first got it I read no more than two sentences, and then the other time was here, at your desk. I only read _one_ sentence then," she exclaimed.

"One of the most potent sentences in the book… the Blood Rites ritual…"

"Damn it, Severus! I never had the illness, all right? Isn't that a requirement? Isn't that the sign? Or is that something _else _you didn't think I needed to know? And I haven't had the urge to go kill anyone, either, other than Malfoy. And I rather think that's more to do with him being a slimy tosser who _deserves_ to die rather than the Call of the Blood!" She was shouting now. He eyed her coldly.

"Perhaps I _will_ look. With your permission?" he said snidely. 

She nodded sharply and met his eyes openly, thinking of the two instances when she saw the Book of the Blood. The memories ran through her mind… taking the package back to the Head Girl's rooms, unwrapping it… sitting on the bed and opening the cover of the book… glancing at the page in front of her, the glistening red letters shining in the candlelight…the feeling of _wrongness _overcoming her, causing her stomach to roil… slamming the book shut and hiding it beneath heavy wards, her head pounding… sitting with Severus as he scanned the pages… seeing one page, upside down, and reading a single line, her stomach clenching… Severus slamming the book shut…

He averted his gaze and she let out a shaky breath, her anger forgotten as she recalled the horrible sense of _wrongness_. Neither of them said anything for a few moments, until Severus broke the heavy silence. 

"It appears that you are being open with me, Hermione. You are not that good of an Occlumens. Yet. Be that as it may, I will still take the other books and ward them." She opened her mouth to protest but he raised a hand to stop her. "To be safe, Hermione. If you wish to read them, to study them, I _insist_ on being present." She opened her mouth again but was cut off by his voice, snapping, "Do not bother arguing. I understand the danger far better than you do. Why didn't you tell me?"

Hermione said nothing, just crossed her arms and looked away, hoping his anger would abate soon. Her own righteous anger had fled, leaving behind a sort of numbing guilt. She knew he was right… her own mind had urged her often enough to tell him, but then that other voice would rise up… 

"I don't know why you decided to keep this from me, Hermione." His black eyes bore into hers and she averted her gaze. 

"I'm sorry… I should have told you. But you never really said to tell you, and I just didn't think it was significant…" 

"It was foolish. I never expected you, of all people, to do something so absurd! One of those brainless twits you call friends, perhaps, but not you, Hermione! There are three people on this Earth that will answer your questions about the Call of the Blood without killing you, and you're married to one of them. Why didn't you ask me?" He was gaining momentum again and in desperation she remembered McGonagall's advice from Diagon Alley…

"You're right, I know, Severus… please. Can we just forget about it for now?" She moved closer to him, emboldened when he didn't push her away, and lifted her mouth to his. She was relieved when he kissed her back, reluctantly at first but as her hands continued to move over his body his kiss grew more enthusiastic.

Suddenly he pulled back and glared at her. Her hands faltered, and she immediately felt foolish. _He knows what I'm doing…but, then why did he respond at all? Unless…_

A sneer formed on his face. "I see you're not so overcome with guilt that you are unwilling to draw on your feminine wiles to assist you." She felt her cheeks color guiltily at the biting comment. Raising an eyebrow, he regarded her silently while she fought the urge to shift uncomfortably. "You truly thought that this would trick me? Would cause me to forget what you have done? To… let you off the hook?" 

The condescending tone spurred an answering indignation in her and she took a deep breath, letting it out before stating boldly, "Well, it was working, wasn't it?" 

He gave her a shrewd look at that. An arrogant look. "Only because I desire it to, my dear young wife. Remember that." 

_Oh, indeed,_ she thought, hit by sudden inspiration. _We'll see about that._ Three weeks of sharing a bed with this man had taught her a few things about his responses. Stepping close to him once again, she reached up to touch his cheek. He watched her suspiciously, but did not move away. "I see. So, Severus, there will be a time when it won't work? When you won't _desire_ it to work? When the touch of my skin-" she trailed her fingers down his neck, allowing her nails to graze his skin lightly, biting back a smile when she saw his breathing begin to increase "-or my lips on your neck-" she brought her hand down to his chest and reached her head up to kiss the sensitive spot just above his collarbone "-won't have the same effect?"

She pulled her head back and eyed him challengingly. His eyes flashed, but she couldn't read the emotion behind them. Gathering her courage around her, she swallowed and continued, "Can you imagine a situation in which my touch on you, my breath against your skin, the feel of my body pressed against yours-" 

As she spoke, she twined her arms around his neck and pressed against him, feeling his arousal against her stomach. She smiled slightly and continued, whispering into his ear, "When it won't fuel your desire at all? Can you imagine an instance where that will be true?" And at this, she pulled back, dancing out of his reach as he tried to grab her, and watched smugly as he struggled to regain control. A flicker of an eyelid, a slight widening of the nostrils, was all that betrayed his reaction. Finally, he raised an eyebrow.  

"Touché, my dear." And then, a genuine smile spread over his features and she froze in amazement. Her momentary shock gave him a chance to glide up and grab her, pulling her roughly against his body. The smile vanished, replaced by an unreadable look. 

"You do realize that I am still angry with you." His voice was low, but hard and unyielding and she felt a jolt of excitement, recalling Lavender and Ginny's comments – maybe now he wouldn't hold back, maybe now… Thinking to encourage him she whimpered and pressed against him, bringing her arms around his neck as he lowered his mouth to hers in a searing kiss. It was demanding, rough… and so passionate it took her breath away. _This _is what she wanted, she realized… Severus, all of him, untamed, not in control… completely open to her… 

He dragged her down to the floor, pushing her against the carpet, and she found his mouth again, kissing him hungrily. Her hands pulled at his shirt, unbuttoning it quickly – her movements much defter after weeks of practice – and once she peeled it off he flipped them both so that she was on top. As he pulled off her shirt, she ran her hands down his chest, fingers brushing his nipples, thumbs meeting in the center over his breastbone… 

He grabbed her and pulled her down to his chest, his mouth and teeth dragging over the skin of her neck and shoulder… he stopped then, hesitating as he brought his breath back under control and she almost groaned with frustration. "Don't… don't stop…" she pleaded, bending her head to suck on the spot just above his collarbone. 

He groaned and wrapped his arms around her. "Just… regaining control."

"Don't." She lifted her head from his neck and looked at him seriously. "I want you… out of control."

He shook his head slightly. "You think you do, perhaps. Trust me, Hermione." And he brought her lips down to his, kissing her thoroughly, his tongue flicking into her mouth… and then he moved his lips to that sensitive spot below her ear and she moaned, her neck arching. _Well_, she thought, _this is certainly worth it, either way_…

Some time later they relaxed together on the carpet, Hermione still lying on his chest, her head nestled under his chin. 

"I am… was… angry because I am concerned, Hermione," Severus said in a barely audible voice, stroking her bare back. "I know how easy it is to get pulled in. I wouldn't… want that to happen to you." The frank openness in his voice took her by surprise. She had never heard him speak in that particular tone before.

Hermione raised her head and gave him a slow, lingering kiss before tucking her head back against his chest. "Thank you, Severus. And I am sorry I didn't ask about the books. I felt the… the lure of them, but it wasn't to the point where I couldn't resist it, so I didn't think it would be _news _to you, you know?"

"Anything concerning the Dark is significant, Hermione. You are powerful, your emotions raw… The stronger you are, the greater the lure."

"Why?"

Severus paused for a moment, and she lifted her head again to look at him as he said, "It's like iron filings to a lodestone… your strength in magic acts as the lodestone. It attracts the Call, the will, the energy to you."

"But I'm nowhere near as strong as Harry…" 

He nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on hers, and she let out a breath. "That's why it was so essential that I not fall under the Dark, wasn't it? Just in case Harry would be tempted…"

"It would be much more difficult for Potter to resist. He is a powerful wizard. More powerful than he realizes… to successfully produce a Patronus in his third year… it's almost unheard of."  He sighed then, groaning slightly. "And now, I think we need to move this to the bedroom."

"I'm perfectly comfortable," she said playfully. 

"I'm too old to lie on the floor. Perhaps we can switch positions? No? Well, then, get up."

Laughing, she rolled off him and climbed to her feet. "Come on, Mr. Decrepit," she said, holding out a hand to help him up. He looked at the proffered limb disdainfully, ignoring it as he climbed to his feet. 

"A noble gesture, my dear, but not very logical. You wouldn't have the strength to pull me up."

"I'm stronger than you think."

"Likely. But not strong enough to pick me up. You, on the other hand…" Suddenly he turned and swung her up in his arms. "…are no problem at all to lift." Their laughter mingled together as he carried her into the bedroom.

_______________________________________________________________

A/N: I just can't get away from these long chapters. Anyhoo – I hope it was enjoyable, and as always – please read and review!!! 

Note: This chapter is abbreviated at Fanfiction.net due to more stringent guidelines surrounding R vs. NC-17. If you would like the full version – the "Director's Cut" as they say in the movie business – please read it on lordandladysnape.net or adultfanfiction.net.

Hpgirl55 – I'm glad you like their little games – a bit more here for you.

Dakota – Oh, no, please don't say he's sweet! Unless you mean he's being sweet for **Snape**… he's still supposed to be snarky ;). There will be no Severuses bringing flowers and reciting poetry by candlelight in this fic… But seriously, I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Jinxd n cursed – Am blushing now. Thank you!

Serpens Potio – Thank you! Not gonna answer! ;) But keep reading, and you'll find out.

Taya – Thanks for reviewing… am not going to respond to your guesses either way, as you know ;). But I'm keeping track of all the theories and when the fic is over I'll list those people that got things right.

SlytherinGin – Am impressed that you sat and read it all in one sitting – it's already pretty long! Thanks for reviewing!

Mistress Nymphadora – I'm glad you're enjoying it. Minerva and Hermione's interactions are some of my favorites to write. Don't assume the meeting wasn't helpful… I put some clues in there that will be fairly significant later on… And you will find out more about the binding eventually ;).

Daintress – I'm glad you're enjoying it, and thank you for your comments on Snape's characterization. It's difficult to write a romance with an in-character Snape, but I'm determined to do it ;). 

Skisolie – Thank you for your review! I'm very flattered, and very pleased at your comments about my in character Snape and Hermione. Especially flattered since you rarely review. I think writer's block won't be an issue, and I have promised weekly updates (this would have been up last night but my son was sick yesterday)… the entire story is outlined with all major scenes planned out, and it will NOT be abandoned. Nothing worse than starting a story and then it gets abandoned, or you have to wait months between updates. I hate that myself, so I won't do it to my readers. Unless I'm hit by a bus. My email is wendynat_ff@hotmail.com if you specific questions or comments. Thanks!

Ennui deMorte – Thank you so much for reviewing!


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. **The Call of the Blood and the concepts associated with it are my creations – please email me if you wish to use them in a story. **

Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 16
    
    ~~~~~~~

"It is as we thought, Headmaster." Severus sat down heavily in the chair opposite the Headmaster's desk, pocketing the portkey which had brought him directly to the Headmaster's office after the Death Eater meeting. 

"He is gathering more followers, then. The recruitment efforts have been successful?" Albus' eyes showed his years as he gazed at Severus. Severus nodded reluctantly.

"Quite successful. Krum, in particular, has been lauded for bringing many new members to the fold. There is supposed to be another… group… at the next meeting."

"I assume the next meeting will be soon, then?" Severus did not answer, just let out a breath and scowled at his hands. Albus' voice was low as he said, "I appreciate the effort you are putting forth, Severus. Don't think that I do not realize how difficult it is…"

"You have no idea, Headmaster. The blood… I cannot…" Severus stopped himself and breathed heavily before continuing. "It is always difficult when there is physical blood, or… Albus, if I am forced to throw an Unforgivable, it will be extremely… difficult… for me to quell the Call afterwards. Now that I am in a higher position in the Inner Circle… the _honors_ will likely go to me eventually."

"Alastor-"

"Alastor Moody's linkage was forged with an Unforgivable, Albus, not the Blood Rites. It is different, as both he and I have told you." Albus frowned and Severus shook his head. "As we have attempted to tell you… it is close to impossible for someone who has not experienced it to understand…"

Albus nodded slowly, a serious look on his face. "What can I do to assist you, Severus?"

"My classes. If the situation does arise, I will need someone to take over my classes for a day or two." Dumbledore nodded casually, and Severus' eyes narrowed. "I suppose _you_ would take them, wouldn't you, Albus?"

The twinkle was back in the older wizard's eyes. "Of course, Severus. You do seem to forget that I am rather well versed in the field of potions…"

"You and your friend Flamel. I have not forgotten. But you will coddle the students-"

"Better they be coddled than faced with a man who is battling the Call of the Blood," Albus said in a sharp voice. 

Severus nodded curtly, scowling. "Of course, Headmaster." He ran one hand through his hair, wishing this meeting would end soon. But things had to be discussed, plans had to be made, before the Order meeting the following night. _Thank Merlin this is a Friday evening… _"Albus, that is why I suggested it. I have a difficult enough time…" Severus stopped and shook his head before continuing, "I suspect it will not be long before I am given the _honor _of disciplining one of the new recruits. And I cannot refuse without calling attention to myself."

"How often-" 

Severus cut him off, shaking his head bitterly.

"Each time we get a group. There is at least one, usually more, who don't know how to keep their mouths shut. Or who look at the Dark Lord too arrogantly, or… it matters little. They are fools, and spoiled, for the most part. The purebloods are usually the worst."

Albus sighed, gazing at the window. Fawkes shifted on his perch, the noise of ruffling feathers the only sound in the room. "I can well imagine. He is accepting half-bloods, then?"

"I believe so, Albus."

"Did you recognize many this time?"

"A few. Two of whom I was warned about prior to… prior to the meeting."

"Ollivander's information has proven helpful, then?"

"Yes," Severus said shortly. 

"Good. I'm sure he'll be pleased." 

Severus shook his head, barely holding back a snort. _Not likely,_ he thought silently. Ollivander did what he could to help out of some sense of obligation to the Headmaster, but Severus had never seen the old wandmaker pleased about anything. If anything, the man seemed neutral as far as the war was concerned… until Severus had pointed out what the loss of Muggleborn students would mean to his sales. Of course, he would have more business in the secondary wand trade, replacing those with unicorn hair cores as the student aged. From what Minerva had told him, Ollivander had remained neutral during the Grindelwald conflict, also. 

_Why am I thinking about Ollivander? _Severus thought suddenly, irritated with himself for stalling. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Albus…" His voice trailed off… he had been dreading passing on this information, but there was no longer any point in avoiding the issue. "Blaise Zabini was one of the new recruits." 

Albus nodded. "Yes, I am aware of that." Severus' lips tightened.

"Indeed?"

Albus gazed at Severus steadily. "With the influx of new recruits that Voldemort is calling to him, I have seen fit to sneak in more eyes and ears. Those who are willing, of course. Mr. Zabini approached me, Severus, with the idea." Severus felt his anger build as the Headmaster continued to speak. Zabini was a child – he had no idea what he was getting himself into. "I have given them a Pensieves as a precaution, prior to the meetings-" Severus could no longer hold back.

Severus stood from his chair and leaned over the Headmaster's desk. "And you think that is enough? What if he discovers _my_ role through one of these brainless idiots? What if the Dark Lord sees into his mind, realizes the duplicity?"

"That will not happen, Severus. Zabini, and the others, know nothing of your involvement. And I have been tutoring him privately for some time… he has shown a remarkable talent for Occlumency."

"You could at least let me know prior so that I can be prepared, and avoid them. It would not be very prudent if one of your young eyes and ears should identify me. Particularly Zabini. What are you _thinking_, Albus? The boy is a child, a student!" Albus met his gaze evenly and Severus pushed away from the desk with an inarticulate growl. "This is too much for him – do you know the Dark Lord has requested that he remain hidden, that he act as a spy on his own classmates? What if he should be caught by them? Have you thought it through? The Dark Lord keeps my identity a closely held secret outside the Inner Circle, but what happens if Zabini should discover that his Head of House is a Death Eater? A _highly ranked _Death Eater?"

"A simple _Obliviate_-"

"Damn it, Albus! There would be no time!"

"Calm yourself, Severus."

"Calm myself? Do you have any idea the risk you're putting the Order in by allowing this?" Silence fell in the room and Severus finally returned to his chair, shaking his head wearily. "It is no matter, Albus. You will do as you wish, you always do. Despite who it may hurt."

"Severus-"

"No," Severus said sharply, cutting him off with a wave of his hand. "Spare me, Albus."

Another uncomfortable silence stretched between them. "There will be a few, possibly, in the next batch of recruits, Severus. I… find myself reticent to tell you their identities… for obvious reasons." Severus just shook his head, his mouth set, and Albus sighed. "I do trust you, Severus. But if you are discovered and your knowledge laid open before Voldemort…. This way, we would at least still have our eyes and ears."

Severus nodded wearily, rubbing his eyes. "I understand, Albus. It makes sense. Forgive my outburst… it was… unexpected, seeing Zabini there. His family has stood against Voldemort… quietly, perhaps, but…" His voice trailed off.

"You are exhausted, child."

"An astute observation," Severus commented as he leaned his head back in the chair and closed his eyes. 

"Not so exhausted that you can't engage in witty banter, obviously," Albus said dryly. Severus opened one eye and looked at the Headmaster. "Severus – if this makes it any better, there are no other current students that have volunteered." 

Severus waved his hand with a dismissive gesture. "If I may… there is more. The Dark Lord is building his troops, and has told us nothing more of his plans. We have some time, at least, while he continues with the recruitments. But then… I feel he will strike before the end of the school year, Albus. Perhaps well before."

"I agree."

The most difficult thing was yet to be said. "And I believe he means to strike at Hogwarts directly."

The aged wizard did not respond for many moments. Then, a simple nod of his head relayed his answer. "Good evening, Severus."

Without another word, Severus rose and left the Headmaster's office, his mind curiously blank. It had been an exceedingly long day even before his Mark had burned at the Head Table. He had looked up and met Hermione's eyes and she nodded slightly, somehow understanding his unspoken message. The next Summons would likely be soon – perhaps a week or two. 

He sighed as he reached the door to his – _their ­_– private chambers. He had told Hermione to go to sleep if the hour grew late, but he found himself hoping that she was still awake. A… distraction… wouldn't go amiss at the moment. And, strangely enough, he felt the desire to talk with her before retiring. Perhaps he was finally becoming accustomed to sharing his privacy with another person… 

Opening the door and striding into the study, he was pleased to note that she was awake and wearing a rather enticing ensemble… her knee-length nightshirt had ridden up and no longer quite covered her thighs as she sat curled up in the armchair. She looked up as he entered. 

"Hi." 

He nodded to her in greeting before peeling off his outer robes and collapsing onto the couch. She had learned to withhold her questions until he had settled in, but he could sense that she was almost bursting with the need to voice them. He smiled slightly and gestured. "Out with the questions, then, Hermione."

She shook her head and chuckled. "You _could _just go ahead and tell me how everything went without my questioning you, Severus. Have you considered that?" She unfolded her legs and sat up in the chair, and he couldn't help but notice that small patch of freckles underneath one thigh as she moved. It was quickly hidden, but with the nightshirt still riding up her thigh there was plenty of other territory to scan… "Severus?" 

He flicked his eyes back up to her face and raised one eyebrow slowly, rewarded when she flushed slightly. It amused him that she still had that reaction… more evidence of her youth and innocence, he assumed. Her innocence… it was slowly being chipped away, but the bulk of it was still present. If he should succumb to the Call's demands, however… he shook his head slightly. No. He had to retain control, or his manipulations thus far would have been in vain. While she was certainly more open-minded than he had imagined, what the Call demanded was doubtless beyond what she would tolerate.

"Enjoying the view?" she asked cheekily, her face still pink but with a mischievous glint in her eyes.  

"Hmm. Very much."

"Well, maybe if you answer my request now, I'll answer a couple of your requests."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "Indeed? Well, then. Other than a large number of new recruits, the meeting was generally uneventful." She stood and walked over to where he sat, and he eyed her hips as she moved. "The typical rhetoric about filthy Mudbloods, of course."

"Of course. You looked kind of stretched thin when you came in – was it difficult? Were there many… many new recruits that you knew?" she asked as she seated herself next to him. He eyed her speculatively. 

"Yes." He saw her eyes searching his and he let out a breath, holding back a scowl. "To both questions."

"Oh."

"I will likely be called again within the next week or two. His… recruitment efforts… have been going very well. It's a good thing, considering we've already lost three of this batch," he said bitterly. To his relief, Hermione did not pry… he had already explained to her what happened when a new recruit spoke out of turn, or did any number of idiotic things in front of the Dark Lord. It was one reason the initiations were conducted in relative privacy from the main group of Death Eaters – a strong silencing spell was cast around the upper ranks of the Inner Circle before the new recruits were allowed to approach the Dark Lord. 

"Any surprises?" She moved closer to him and began rubbing his neck, her nails scratching pleasingly along his scalp. 

"Not many. One that I thought had escaped his father's influence." Severus moved his neck forward, giving her better access. "It was not… a pleasant meeting."

"Well, maybe I can help you forget it," Hermione whispered, and he almost jumped at the unexpected feel of her breath against his ear. "A distraction?"

"That would be most welcome," he murmured silkily, sliding his arms around her and pulling her against him. "Most welcome indeed."

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Hermione tried not to let her irritation show as the meeting dragged on. They had been holding regular Order meetings and, at the end of each, the members would muse over the meaning of the prophecy. This particular meeting was no different – Severus detailed the Death Eater gathering from the evening before as well as his suspicions concerning Voldemort's attack, and then the talk drifted to the prophecy. 

Finally, the typical speculation wound to a halt and Dumbledore thanked them for coming. The members rose, speaking amongst themselves in small groups… all except for Alastor Moody. Hermione had noticed him staring in their direction rather often during the prophecy discussion, and he had even muttered under his breath here and there. Now he was staring at Severus with an oddly suspicious look. "What's up with him, anyway?" Hermione whispered to Severus. He looked down at her in surprise and shook his head slightly.

"Later." 

Her mouth twisted in irritation at the curt response, but she nodded in agreement. This wasn't the place to discuss it, obviously, but she would make sure to get her answers this time _before_ he distracted her. Suddenly, she noticed Moody and Albus headed their way. 

"Severus, Alastor and I need to speak with you. If you would excuse us, Hermione?"

She frowned slightly, looking from the Headmaster to Severus. "Of course, Albus."

Minerva appeared then. "Walk with me, Hermione – I have some things to discuss with you concerning the sixth year classes and it won't take long. You can floo to your chambers from the office." Hermione nodded an affirmative and squeezed Severus' hand briefly before stepping away. 

"I will see you back in our rooms, Hermione," Severus said, his face tight, his eyes still on Alastor Moody. 

"All right, Severus. Good evening, Alastor, Albus." Moody nodded slightly, staring at her with a very unsettling expression on his face. 

The magical eye certainly didn't help, Hermione decided as she walked with Minerva to the Deputy Headmistress' office. What also didn't help was the suspicious glances he kept shooting at Severus… did the man still suspect him of duplicity? Even after all this time, after everything Severus had gone through to ensure Harry's safety? Hermione responded mechanically to Minerva's farewell and stepped through the fireplace into the chambers she shared with her husband.

Why did Moody want to speak with Severus alone? _Well, not alone… with Dumbledore, _she amended silently. The old Auror obviously still didn't trust Severus, so it wasn't likely that he wanted to tell him something that the other Order members couldn't hear. So, perhaps he wants more information from Severus on something that…

The realization hit her suddenly. Of course. The Call of the Blood… Severus had told her that Moody was one of the three people who had turned their backs on it, who were controlling it rather than allowing it to consume them. Maybe he wanted to speak to Severus about the Blood Rites that were mentioned in the prophecy… Moody had muttered something under his breath when they reached that section. That must be it. 

Satisfied with her reasoning, Hermione walked into the bedroom and quickly changed her robes into one of the pajama sets she had purchased on that Hogsmeade shopping trip with Ginny. She smiled slightly as she shook out the shorts set… Ginny certainly had a good eye for color. Thinking of the other items she'd been talked into, she flushed slightly. A good eye not just for color, Hermione thought wryly. She still hadn't worn one of those little gowns yet… she wasn't exactly sure why not, but it just seemed a little more _forward _than what she was used to.

Of course, everything she had been doing lately was more forward than she was used to. 

She glanced up at the top shelf of the wardrobe and shook her head. The books were gone, of course, locked and warded. She hadn't yet asked to study them… for some reason, she was uncomfortable doing so in Severus' presence. She still felt the pull, but Severus' wardings had lessened it somewhat. Thankfully. Or… perhaps it was just the knowledge that they were beyond her reach…

_But they're not. You have the means to break the wards. _

She gasped and shut the wardrobe with trembling hands. Where had that thought come from? Her eyes drifted to her trunk, where she had hidden the parchment that Viktor had sent her… the parchment with the ward-breaking incantations… She did, in fact, have the means to break the wards. If she ever needed the books... If it became necessary… 

_Each step seems but a small one. _

Shaking her head to clear it, she went to her bag and pulled out her pills. Hermione was inordinately grateful to her mother for her foresight… If not for the Muggle birth control, there was a good chance that, considering the amount of sex they'd been having, she would now be pregnant. She shuddered at the thought. Eventually she may wish to have children, but no time soon. Definitely not now. Not until her career was well underway… and she had the luxury of waiting. The longer lifespan afforded witches a longer fertile period. She had the sneaking suspicion that she may _never _want children… and she rather doubted that Severus would object to that notion. He didn't exactly seem the fatherly type…

Making her way back into the study, she prepared some tea and set out an extra cup for Severus when he returned. He would likely be in an irritable mood after the meeting with Moody and Albus, and she wanted him relaxed enough that she could question him about what was said without any dark moods taking him over. While she was now used to his moods and could occasionally coax him out of one, she simply didn't have the energy that night to deal with it. 

She shook her head. She really should read a bit more in one of the Muggle Chemistry texts she had picked up in Diagon Alley, but she would never be able to concentrate. Settling on the couch with her tea, she watched the flames and wondered how long Albus and Moody would keep Severus.

She didn't have long to wait. After what seemed like no more than fifteen minutes, Severus stalked into their chambers.  

"Already? Not a very long discussion, then?"

Severus did not answer and she bit back a sigh, waiting patiently as he changed out of his robes and into his sleeping attire. She hoped he wouldn't just stay in the bedchamber and make her come after him… no. He stalked back into the study and she raised an eyebrow when she saw his face. 

"Not a very good discussion, then?" He gave a snort of laughter at that, and she relaxed minutely. "I made enough tea for two."

"So I see." He cast a quick glance at her. "I am sure you are bursting to ask…"

"Of course."

"Of course. Very little of consequence was said."

"Was it about the Blood Rites section of the prophecy?" Hermione asked, taking a sip of her tea. He sat beside her and sighed.

"Yes. For the most part."

"What does Moody think?"

Severus waved a hand negligently. "I'm sure no one truly knows that, my dear. He believes I am the one to perform the Blood Rites, however, as I am the one who is already stained-" He stopped suddenly and frowned. "I have no idea why they insist on attempting to decipher this riddle… it does little good, if it's a true prophecy it will occur regardless of what we do to prevent or assist." 

Hermione didn't fall for the change of subject, and she realized it was a clear indication of Severus' own exhaustion that he was so blatant with it. "What do you mean, the one who is already stained? Why doesn't Moody trust you?"

"Like I said, Hermione, the Blood Rites. The Call." His voice definitely held an irritated tone, but she was not deterred.

"Explain it, please. Moody… Moody also has the Call of the Blood as part of his nature, so why you?"

"Because of the Blood Rites. I… finalized the… how do I explain?" Severus sighed and put his teacup on the end table. Turning to look at her, he said, "When the Call becomes a part of a man's… a person's… nature, it is to varying degrees."

"But you never-"

"Please do not interrupt," he snapped. She bit her tongue, keeping her face clear as he spoke. Finally, more about the Call? "The Call is not fully entrenched until _Avada_ _Kedavra_ is cast on another person. Or… until the Blood Rites are performed." She remained silent as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Finally, he continued, "It is present, a toehold, so to speak… waiting… but it cannot move in completely until one of the two events occur. It is why the Dark Lord tied the Unforgivables to his Dark Mark linkage… to mimic the Call of the Blood linkage. An homage, if you will. But he was unable to tie it to the Blood Rites, which is why… which is why the Dark Mark did not burn until after I used the Killing Curse on my father." He fell silent and she finally spoke up.

"But… you performed the Blood Rites… why did you also…"

"First, yes. But… youth. Overexuberance, you could call it, perhaps. I performed the Blood Rites, but needed more… wanted more… once you completely open yourself to the Call, the need becomes immeasurable… I wanted him to _pay. _I wanted to make him pay." Hermione's heart froze at the flat, cold tones of her husband as he echoed the thoughts that so often ran through her own mind… "I cast _Crucio_, so that his final dying breath could be cloaked in pain. The Blood Rites completed my Call of the Blood linkage. The _Crucio_ completed the Dark Lord's linkage. I was lost."

"But… you found your way back…" Severus remained silent, and Hermione swallowed hard before continuing, "How is… how is it different? Is… did Moody…"

"Moody completed his linkage using _Avada_ _Kedavra_. It does not… create as strong of a linkage. It does not open you as completely to the Call. I feel it… all the time. The Call does not plaque Moody in the same manner as it plagues me. I have to… put more effort into keeping it dormant. And that is one reason Moody still does not fully trust me… he has reason. It is extremely difficult, as he well knows…"

Hermione sucked in a breath, her eyes wide. "So, you…"

"Am the only person on the side of the Light who bears the most complete linkage to the Call of the Blood. To the Dark." 

"Severus… it doesn't make a lot of sense. How can it be part of your nature, but more a part of your nature than…"

He shook his head irritably. "Again, my dear, there are philosophers who have argued for hundreds of years… but the main school of thought is that by practicing the Dark Arts, by reading a Book of the Blood… you create a bridge of sorts… thread-like, at first… and the illness begins as the Call begins to trickle into you. If the thread is no longer crossed, if it is not built upon, it eventually falls apart. Disintegrates. If, however, it is built upon, stronger and stronger, more of the Dark Arts are learned and mastered… it grows thicker. Allowing more of the Call to enter your conscious mind. It is not until the Killing Curse or the Blood Rites are performed that the bridge is… finalized, made permanent. The Killing Curse creates a smaller permanent bridge… the Blood Rites – which are directly linked to the Call of the Blood, and are far older than the Unforgivable curses - create the strongest bridge available. Once the bridge is created, it cannot be altered, it cannot be modified…"

"So even if an Avada-created bridge person performs the Blood Rites, it won't change the bridge itself?"

"No, it doesn't. Once the initial linkage, or bridge, is created it cannot be modified. That is the theory, at least."

"And, since Moody has never performed the Blood Rites, he is concerned that the theory may not be true? But since you have already created the strongest bridge…" Hermione worried at her lower lip for a moment before looking up and seeing Severus' irritated expression. "Sorry – just thinking out loud."

"Apparently." He smirked at her and she felt her heartbeat begin to speed… how was he able to do that so easily? 

"Bed?"

A raised eyebrow. "Are you still thinking out loud?"

"No, I actually believe I'm propositioning you," Hermione said in a low voice. "Out loud." With a wicked grin, Severus pulled her into his arms and swept into the bedroom.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

_Dear Viktor,_

_It's hard to believe I've been married for over a month now. The time has gone by fast, maybe because of all the changes… not just my marriage, either. On that front, things are going as well as can be expected – we've formed a friendship, definitely, and maybe a little more… time will tell, I suppose. I'm coming to like him more each day. It's such a strange situation, still. I'm glad I decided to take my NEWTs early and graduate before the wedding  – I'm not sure how our marriage would handle it if he were still in a position of authority over me… I know I wouldn't have done too well with that, and I doubt Severus would have, either. As you know, I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut when people make me angry. (By the way, I'm still sorry about hitting you that time last summer – I know it was just a joke but you caught me at a bad time.)_

_My apprenticeship is going well, and I'm having a lot of fun getting to know Minerva a little more. As you know, I've decided on non-solid Transfiguration as my main topic of study. It's moving along slowly, but there is some progress. I've been able to study some on Muggle physics and chemistry and I think I've found the key… but it'll take more work. For now, I've been able to turn a glass of water into a ball that will last almost overnight before melting back into liquid form. It's a definite improvement. Minerva seems impressed, at least. _

_I've been helping her with a couple of her lower-level classes… first years… and it's actually a lot more fun than I thought it would be. It's certainly better than grading their papers! We've only had to deal with a couple of accidents… there was a Slytherin first year who tried to Transfigure her nose smaller… not sure why, but then I'm rather partial to big noses (good thing, right?). Minerva corrected it quickly and we sent her to the hospital wing. _

_Well, it's getting close to lunchtime and I told Severus I'd meet him in his office. We're going to get away for lunch today and spend some time in Diagon Alley. Even though we live together, we don't always have a lot of time together… seems crazy, but we're both just so busy. Particularly because he's Head of House. The Slytherins are always up to something… even on the weekends. Why, just last night… well. I'll leave that for the next letter, once I find out all the details from Severus. He did not seem pleased when he came back to bed._

_I hope things are going well for you, and I do believe you should go for that coaching job. You've been assistant coach long enough, and I doubt anyone knows Quidditch as well as you do. You're obviously a natural. _

_Take care,_

_Your friend, _

_Hermione._ __

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

A couple of hours after Hermione met Severus in his office, they were seated at a table in the Leaky Cauldron, finishing their lunch. The conversation had been pleasant, catching up on student news and gossip. To Hermione's surprise, Severus seemed to know more of the gossip than even Lavender and Parvati, and he told it with such a cutting wit that she couldn't hold back her laughter. 

"And here is the couple of the hour now," a deep voice came from behind her. Hermione, a wide smile still on her face from Severus' last pointed remark concerning the newest _Hufflepuff_ _Hunk_, turned in her seat to see Kingsley Shacklebolt standing next to their table. 

"Kingsley! It's good to see you," she exclaimed. Severus sat back and shot Kingsley an even gaze. 

"And good to see you – definitely a sight for sore eyes today, my dear," Kingsley said, winking at her. She thanked him and his eyes cut to Severus. "Wasted on this one, though. Lucky man."

Severus narrowed his eyes at the Auror. "Shouldn't you be out chasing down Dark wizards, Shacklebolt?"

Kingsley just chuckled. "It's good to see that marriage hasn't softened you any, Snape."

"It's only been a month, Kingsley. Give me some time to work, all right?" Hermione knew Severus would likely have some scathing comment for her later, but she couldn't resist. Kingsley let out a rich, deep laugh. 

Severus did not.

Daring to look over at him, she saw that he was gazing at her with hooded eyes, a strangely contemplative expression in them. He and Kingsley traded a few words and then the Auror went on his way. 

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

A short time later, as they headed to Flourish and Botts, Severus smirked and bent down to whisper in her ear, "So – is it your goal to _soften me up_ as Kingsley said?"

Hermione laughed. "No, actually… I kind of like you the way you are."

"Hmm." Severus sighed inwardly. She didn't actually know the way he was, truly… he had been making an effort to be _nice _to her. That certainly wasn't in his nature. Although… he had found it to be much easier to do than he had suspected… he shook his head. Of course, he was getting something out of the situation, too, and that likely helped matters. A shift in the crowd pushed her against him and he could feel the length of her body pressed alongside his for a moment before the crowd evened out again.

Yes, the side benefits of this entire situation were certainly… appealing. 

They were approaching the book shop now, and Severus looked down at his wife. She had a slight smile on her face, and he wondered for a brief moment what she was thinking about. 

As they entered the bookstore, Hermione immediately headed into the Transfiguration section. He hovered near the door, considering whether he should quickly drop into Ollivander's to complete his business while she browsed… he thought it would be safe, but… Suddenly, he caught sight of Kingsley Shacklebolt. The Auror met his eyes and approached. "Shacklebolt – will you be here for a few minutes?"

The Auror nodded, curious. "I have some quick business with Ollivander to take care of – you are familiar with it. Hermione is here… could you-"

"Certainly, Severus." With a curt nod, Severus left the bookshop and headed to Ollivander's.  

"Snape," Mr. Ollivander said from the workbench. "A moment, please…" Severus watched in silence as the wandmaker carefully inserted a single unicorn hair into a hollowed out portion of a wand. It appeared to be mahogany. Severus frowned slightly, wondering if the future recipient of that wand would have to trade it for another… if the person would one day appear on Ollivander's list…

"Ah. And where is Mrs. Snape today?" 

"I wanted to speak with you alone, Ollivander, if you have the time."

"I thought you might," Ollivander said mysteriously, beckoning him over. "But first…" The old wandmaker dug in his robes and pulled out a rolled parchment, which Severus took. "Your wife has changed quite a bit since last I saw her, when she bought her first wand. I sensed a change in her…"

Severus frowned. Did Ollivander sense the same affinity that Severus did? Was it the Call? Was it even possible, without the illness? Though she didn't show the other signs… "Do you sense it, Ollivander? You made a comment about her wand…"

"At first I did, then it fled." Ollivander shrugged before glancing up from the wand on the workbench. 

"It's never fled for me…" Severus' voice trailed off. "I still feel it."

"You still feel the Call at all times, do you not? Why should this be any different?" Ollivander looked up at him with his moon-like eyes, and Severus scowled.

"The Call can't have taken her, that I would sense-"

Ollivander nodded. "Yes, yes. That's not what I felt – the Call has a distinctly different flavor to it. An affinity, nothing more, nothing less. For a brief moment. It was unusual." The wandmaker paused for a moment. "How is your control, Severus?" 

_Always too damned perceptive… _Severus swallowed hard. Ollivander didn't speak often, and when he did it was usually significant. 

"A thread." 

Ollivander nodded and sat back in his chair. "Take care. Be wary. It can come on you at the oddest times…"

"I am aware of that."

"Listen to me, boy – I have dealt with it far longer than you have, and still live," Ollivander snapped. Severus held his tongue and reluctantly nodded. "Your linkage is even stronger than mine… Take care. Although… there are certain things, meant for protection, that might-"

"No." Ollivander raised his eyebrows at the younger wizard, and Severus let out a breath. "You know what it is like, Ollivander… if I give in to the demands…"

"You may not have a choice, Snape. It could benefit the girl."

"No," Severus repeated and Ollivander shrugged, going back to his work. After a moment, Severus sighed. "Thank you, Ollivander."

The wandmaker finally glanced up at the dark wizard and nodded. "Think on what I said, my young friend. Some things cannot be controlled."  

__________________________________________________________________

A/N: Thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing (hint, hint). More information about the Call – and there's more to come, of course. I hope you enjoyed the chapter – it's a bit of transition and quite a bit of plot movement, though it may not seem like it at first. Please let me know what you think. There are some big events occurring next chapter, and I hope to get it out by the weekend, if work cooperates. A lot of it is already written. (Reviews will help prod me along…)

Note: There are no extra scenes on aff.net or lnls for this chapter.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO SHIV!!!!

In honor of her birthday, I'm posting this early while I'm at work… I will add individual reviewer responses later tonight after I get home, but wanted to post this ASAP for her (because I promised it on her b-day ;) ). 

For anyone who hasn't read her work – why are you waiting???? She's Shiv on aff.net and Shiv5468 on lnls and I think Shiv5468 on ff.net, and her work is amazing. Great humor, great writing, always a good read. I've never been disappointed.

Serpens Potio – Thanks so much for reviewing, am glad you liked the last chapter so much. (Whispering: yes, you will get to see Snape out of control… but don't tell anyone!)

Nore – Thank you – it IS the most difficult part – everyone wants to rush past the slow buildup and get to the happily ever after, but I want it to be believable. Thanks!!

Dakota – Thanks!! I assumed you meant sweet for Snape, not sweet in general – but thanks ;). LOL @ roses and serenading… I think I'd throw up, too!

Louise Luvgood – Hi, there! Good guess – you were right on the money!! (Of course, I only told you cuz it was revealed in this chapter, but still… LOL!) Thanks for reviewing!

Arafel2, Mistress Nymphadora, Jinxd n cursed, Gin – Thanks so much for reviewing!!!


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. **The Call of the Blood and the concepts associated with it are my creations – please email me if you wish to use them or a derivative of them in a story. **

Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 17

------

"So, you think you may be able to turn air into something, then?"

Hermione nodded. "If there's a way I can section off a gas – such as air - I think there's a way to compress its mass and then create a solid object using Transfiguration. It's similar to liquid Transfiguration… in theory, at least."

She glanced around the bookstore, still curious as to where Severus had disappeared. When she had finished browsing the Transfiguration shelves, Kingsley Shacklebolt had appeared and started a discussion with her. As fond as she was of the dark Auror, she had been understandably frustrated when he had proven so stubbornly reticent on the whereabouts of her husband.

"It's fascinating. What- Ah. Here he is, now," Kingsley said. "Did you complete your errand, Severus?" Hermione turned to see Severus standing beside her.

Severus nodded his head sharply and raised an eyebrow when Hermione asked, "Errand?"

"Ollivander." Before she could ask any other questions, he said brusquely, "Are you finished here, then?" Hermione looked at him oddly before nodding. She could ask him more about it later, when they were safe from prying ears. There were quite a few questions she had about the strange wandmaker.

"Well, then. I enjoyed our discussion, Hermione – and I really think you're on to something there." Catching Severus' eye, Kingsley cleared his throat. "I have some more browsing to do, but I'm sure I'll see you both again soon – have a good day, Severus, Hermione."

"Goodbye, Kingsley," Hermione said brightly. Severus simply nodded in farewell. As she and Severus made their way to the door, she recognized a young man standing in front of the Dark Arts section, a stack of books next to him. He looked up as they passed and sucked in his breath when he caught Severus' eye. Adrian Pucey – a Slytherin that had graduated the year before. She was confused at the strangely fearful expression on his face when he saw his former Head of House. She shook her head slightly. Apparently even some members of his own house had issues with the fearsome Professor Snape.

Severus was strangely quiet the rest of their time in Diagon Alley, not even protesting when she insisted on venturing into Muggle London to pick up some more Muggle physics texts. Had Hermione enjoyed clothes shopping more, she would have been tempted to see how far his silence would stretch and drag him into a couple of Muggle clothing stores. As it was, she completed her purchases quickly and they headed back to Hogwarts.

She wasn't sure if he was in one of his more acquiescent moods – the type she and Ginny had labeled as part of "the Act" – or if he was simply distracted. When she had spoken to Ginny last, they had come up with the Act to explain those times when Hermione knew he was acting out of character for himself, presumably to make her feel more comfortable. She wasn't sure how long he would be keeping it up, so she didn't share her observations with the man himself… no need to hasten the end of the niceties, such as they were. Though, to be honest, she liked his "normal" self just as much… if not better.

When they were safely ensconced back in their private rooms, Hermione sat next to Severus on the couch and decided that the direct approach would be best. He was relaxed and off-guard… there was no better time than now.

"Ollivander is the third person, isn't he?"

Severus stiffened next to her. "So I'm right," Hermione said triumphantly. Severus nodded reluctantly, a scowl forming on his face. Hermione bit back a smile. "Don't look so irritated, Severus. Not all Gryffindors are as thick as you like to think."

"Apparently."

"What does he do for the Order?" From his expression, she suspected he had expected a different question. For a moment she thought he wouldn't respond, then he spoke.

"He doesn't work for the Order precisely. He simply… assists us, for the moment. We are… friends, I suppose, Ollivander and I."

"He assists…" Hermione took a deep breath and said, "Those parchments he gives you… are they lists of people who've had to get different wands?"

His head swung around at that, a speculative expression on his face. "And what gives you that idea?"

Hermione sat back in the cushions and regarded him for a moment before answering. "What he said to me, the last time I was there. It made me curious, so I asked Minerva about wands… if people needed to switch wands out as they get older and begin to specialize in certain fields."

"You didn't think to ask me?" His voice held a note of anger, and she placed a hand on his arm to forestall the building tirade.

"Not by design, Severus. It just came to my mind when she said something about wand movements the first day I apprenticed with her. I was going to ask you that day when we got back from Diagon Alley, but you were in a mood."

"A mood," Severus repeated flatly.

"A snit, a temper... Whatever it was, you were in it. And I hadn't become used to you yet – it was just the day after our handfasting. Now, I'd just ignore your snit and ask anyway."

"I see. So you are used to me now?" He turned to her with a small smirk and she felt her heart surge in her chest.

"Well… let's just say I'm used to your snits now."

"Are you?" he murmured, moving closer to her. "Well, I'll have to think of some other things to do… to keep you on your toes…" Wrapping his hands around her waist, he hauled her into his lap and brought his lips to hers. As the kiss deepened, she shifted on his lap so that she was straddling him.

Some time later, she pulled back and smiled slightly, putting her hands on his chest and holding herself away from him momentarily. "I wasn't through with my questions." Her voice was slightly breathless.

His eyes narrowed for a moment, only a slight quirk of his lips betraying his amusement. "And I thought I was distracting you sufficiently."

"That's difficult to do."

"Apparently," he murmured, taking her wrists and pulling her against him again. Her chuckle turned into a low moan as he nuzzled her neck, his tongue darting out to caress that sensitive spot under her ear…

"Severus…"

"Mmm?"

With what she felt was a supreme show of willpower, she pushed away again. "Later – I promise. After I get my questions answered."

He let out an irritated breath and pursed his lips. "You promise."

"Yes. You do trust me, right?" she asked lightly, a small smile on her face. She was unprepared for his sudden stillness and the strange look in his eyes as he studied her. The silence seemed to grow louder, if that was possible, until she felt compelled to speak. Before she could open her mouth, however, he uttered a single word.

"Yes."

Realizing that something momentous had just occurred, she nodded solemnly, unaware of what to say next. He saved her from the decision by asking, "So, what were these questions that you're so determined to ask?"

"All right. Ollivander gives you a list… how much can that help? How many names could be on the list? It's only people with unicorn hair cored wands, right?"

Severus raised an eyebrow at the barrage of questions. "There are only a few names on the list. Two or three a month, lately. Which is a great deal more than normal."

"Because of the recruitment efforts?"

"Correct. You are also correct that only unicorn hair wands need be replaced, and then only when the caster has reached the Darker spells." He sighed then, and from her perch on his lap she saw a line form between his brows. "Every name that I can get is useful – I can prepare, keep an eye on those close to turning to the Dark Lord. Depending on the person, it is sometimes possible to stop them before they join his forces." A scowl grew on his face. "That is rarely effective, of course."

Hermione nodded. "Because only the Dark Lord can offer them what they're seeking… a chance to further study their obsession," she said slowly.

"Very good." A split second later, she was yanked against him again, his mouth on her neck, his hands moving down her body.

"I'm not sure if that was my last question…" she protested half-heartedly even as she leaned into his touch.

"It was," he growled into her skin, nipping her collarbone lightly.

"All right."

-------

Just after curfew that evening, a dark shape swept silently through the dungeon corridors. Severus kept to the shadows, ready to pull in against the wall if necessary to allow his victims plenty of time to further incriminate themselves before he made his presence known. A wicked smile grew on his face at the thought. He had always enjoyed his nights on hall duty – catching unsuspecting couples attempting to find some privacy, swooping down on the wayward students who had lost track of time… Now, however, he just wished for it to be over with quickly so he could return to his chambers… return to Hermione…

Hearing a familiar voice ahead, Severus pulled back into the shadows, casting a quick Disillusionment charm for good measure. If it was who he suspected… yes. Moments later, Draco Malfoy and Gregory Goyle appeared, and he mentally congratulated himself for adding the charm when they stopped immediately in front of the spot he was hidden to continue their discussion.

"Draco – it's just crazy. Granger doesn't like you! She'd never lea-"

"Look, Goyle, I know that that chance is gone now," Draco replied, a strangely hollow sound to his voice. Severus' eyes narrowed at the tone in the young man's voice and he peered at the blond boy speculatively. So Draco had truly been interested in Hermione, then? Intriguing. "Father's plan was worth a try. It just didn't succeed this time… Snape swooped in and ruined things. That's all."

"Yeah. Well, your father's plans haven't been going too well in general, have they? That whole ring thing didn't work out – she looked happy as ever the next day." Severus raised an eyebrow at that. So Goyle did think on his own on occasion… something to keep in mind.

Draco laughed, cold and condescending. "Goyle, Goyle… this is why you have _me_ to do your thinking for you. She was putting on an act – it bothered her a lot more than she was letting on."

"How would you know?" Draco's face grew thunderous at the challenge and Severus was immediately reminded of Lucius. The two did look remarkably alike.

"There are some things going on in the background that you aren't aware of, Goyle, for good reason. Father and I have a spy of our own, someone Granger thinks is her friend." Severus' lips tightened. He had figured as much, after seeing Viktor and Draco so deep in conversation at the last full meeting. _At least that's confirmed now, _he thought.

"Oh."

"Right, get it now?"

Goyle just shook his head. "I don't know Draco – you should just forget about her. I know you've been obsessed since she hit you back in third year, but give it up. Let her and Snape alone. You're messing with stuff that's too big for you." _She hit him in third year? I'll have to ask her about that later… _

Draco's wrist shot out and he grabbed the other boy's collar. "Too big for me?" With a mocking laugh, Draco released his friend and stepped back. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Goyle. Father has it all planned out. She'll stop trusting Snape, his plans fall through, and he'll get moved down while Father and myself are moved up. It's simple. And then… if I want a little reward to go along with it, who's going to stop me?"

"Snape."

"He won't know. I told you – Father and I have it all figured out… Come on. It's after curfew. Wouldn't want Snapey to find us out in the corridors," Draco said with venom.

"He's probably busy with- um. Never mind."

"You're finally showing some sense, Goyle. Keep it up." Their voices faded away as the boys left the corridor.

-----

Friday of that week, Severus' Dark Mark burned immediately following dinner. Hermione looked up at him when he hissed and he nodded. "I'm being Summoned." Quickly he gathered his things and, as had become almost custom, caught Hermione up in a long embrace.

"Floo Albus. And don't wait up this time – it's another recruitment initiation, and I'll likely be out late."

"I worry."

"No need, for this meeting," he said curtly, frowning. "Go to sleep." She nodded reluctantly and he gave her a quick kiss before activating the Portkey.

Less than an hour later, Severus stood with his fellow members of the Inner Circle, watching as the recruits came up one by one to speak with the Dark Lord. He noticed Rodolphus swaying slightly on his feet next to him and smiled behind his mask – he wasn't the only one bored this night. Abruptly, he sobered as he recognized one of the recruits.

_Adrian Pucey. Damn,_ Severus thought, gazing at the trembling boy who was just now walking up to be presented before the Dark Lord. He remembered seeing the boy just the week before in Diagon Alley, the day he had spoken to Ollivander. In the Dark Arts section. Perhaps that was why he had looked at him so nervously that day…

Pucey had been a good student, and a good Chaser. His family had been one of the few that opposed the Dark Lord during the previous war, though they had done it quietly so as not to arouse the Dark Lord's attention. Severus had been certain Pucey would not be one of the Slytherins who succumbed to the temptation. Suddenly, an unwelcome thought occurred to him… perhaps the boy was one of Dumbledore's fools? Thinking to play a dangerous game? Damn Dumbledore for not telling him, for not warning him! This child had no place here.

Seething inwardly, he missed when Pettigrew announced the boy's name and presented him officially to the Inner Circle. As Pucey's gaze swept over to him, he swiftly averted his eyes… but not quickly enough. Severus was horrified to hear the boy's inadvertent exclamation – "Professor Snape?!" He closed his eyes briefly before turning his head to where the Dark Lord stood. The expression in those cold red eyes clearly told what would occur next.

The boy would die.

Loose tongues were not dealt with kindly, and for such a new recruit to make a mistake of that magnitude – to blurt out the name of one of the Inner Circle… the boy would die. And Severus, the wronged party, would likely be the one expected to do the deed. It was an honor, to be able to slake the thirst of the Call in such a way…

He was inordinately relieved when Lucius stepped forward and brandished his wand. "Allow me, my Lord." Then Severus realized the man's intentions when Lucius sent off a volley of curses and hexes that caused Severus to wince. Blood seeped along the ground, and he could feel the answering stir deep within him. _Damn Lucius… _it was a clever ploy… Lucius knew the Dark Lord would call upon Severus to finish the deed, and the combination of an Unforgivable with the freshly spilt blood would cause the Call would rise within him strongly… it would be near to impossible to handle for the next few hours… and he would have to return, to face Hermione… No, Lucius was not a fool…

The Call was hungry… emotions running high… the boy's cries weakened and finally the Dark Lord held up a hand. "Stop, Lucius. This is Severus' right."

"Yes, my Lord." Before Severus could react, Lucius - with an evil glint in his eyes – bent down and plucked the boy from the ground, shoving the bloodied form towards Severus. The boy, too weakened by the hexes and blood loss to gain his footing, fell against Severus heavily and grabbed at his robes, one hand almost dislodging his mask.

Blood seeped through Severus' robes, soaking into his shirt… hot blood… pulsing with life… with magic… the Call surged within him, almost uncontrollably… With a growl, Severus pushed the boy away, grimacing as the grasping hands pulled at his robes and hood. The boy was almost lifeless, but not quite yet.

"I saved the final blow for you, Severus… answer it. Answer the Call," Lucius said magnanimously, as if he was personally bestowing a gift rather than simply obeying the orders of their Master. Severus was unable to stop himself, unable to avoid the Call with the smell of fresh blood in his nostrils… the warmth of it soaking through his shirt to caress his skin… he raised his wand and uttered two words.

_Avada Kedavra._

A green flash and the power surged in him… he felt as if he owned the world… he closed his eyes to savor the feeling… the Call sang in his blood… burning… ringing… wanting more… _demanding more…_

"It has been long since you fed it, then, Severus?" Rodolphus asked him quietly. Severus' eyes shot open and he nodded, taking a shaky breath before readjusting his mask and pushing his hair – pulled free by the grasping hands of the now-dead young man – back underneath the hood of his outer robes. He watched numbly as Lucius dragged the body off to the side, close to where Nagini rested. The large snake normally preferred live victims, but freshly killed were also acceptable. Belatedly, he realized Rodolphus had continued speaking, "-shouldn't let it go so long…"

Swallowing past the dryness of his throat, he answered, "I know, friend. But recent… circumstances… have required it to be so. I do have some outlets, of course, but it has been long since I cast one of the three." Beside him, Rodolphus nodded in understanding. Years in Azkaban had almost driven the other man insane from the unanswered demands of the Call – his wife had not been so lucky. Bellatrix's sanity left her long before she left Azkaban.

Severus concentrated on keeping his breathing steady as the rest of the recruits were brought forward one by one. Though they had not heard what transpired behind the silencing charm, they had all seen the _disciplining _of the now-dead young man and more than one watched wide-eyed as Nagini savored her meal of the evening. Needless to say, the rest of the proceedings went smoothly and quietly.

-----

The blood was still wet, though it had cooled, when he was finally able to Portkey back to the Shrieking Shack and then directly to Albus Dumbledore's office. He strode to Dumbledore's desk in a fury.

"Severus! How-"

"Damn you, Albus – you didn't tell me! Again! Why not? Do you know what I had to do this evening? I would have avoided his gaze, not allowed him to see my eyes. Pucey _recognized _me, Albus! And spoke my name – aloud! He was in my House just last year!"

The older wizard lowered his head for a moment before answering. "Severus – I would have told you if I could. I was unaware of the boy's final answer… I received the owl moments after you left." Severus did not answer, just shook his head and stood before the Headmaster's desk, breathing shallowly. Albus' eyes narrowed. "And really, Severus - if he was that careless he would have died eventually."

"But not by my hand!" Severus yelled, whirling away from the desk to pace the floor.

"Severus – calm yourself. You did what you had to do – you were the tool, not the instigator."

"Don't you understand? Once the Call is fed with blood… with death… it is like a living thing… an Unforgivable… it's the one shot of whiskey that pushes a recovering alcoholic back over the cliff's edge…"

"Well, how fortunate it's a weekend night, then, and no students to deal with. Here." There was a dull thud as Albus placed a bottle of Firewhisky on the desk. Severus stared at him incredulously. "I know, Severus – after your father… I know you don't normally drink. But it may help deaden it. Moody says-"

"Damn him, too, Albus!"

"Just take it. Keep it, share with company…" Dumbledore's voice trailed off and he looked at Severus seriously. "Be careful."

Severus knew instantly what the Headmaster was referring to. "She should be asleep, Albus. I wouldn't injure her, even so. I am not that far gone…"

Or was he?

_Bind her to you. _

Not injure her, precisely…

Severus squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists… the Call was awake… it was more than awake… _Not tonight… Merlin, not tonight… she _has _to be asleep… I can't resist it…_

Albus' voice cut through his internal ravings. "I know you won't hurt her, Severus. I daresay you've grown rather fond of young Hermione?" Severus opened his eyes and shot him a venomous glare before resuming his furious pacing. "Well, deny it if you will. But it wouldn't surprise me – she's intelligent, quite lovely, and rather more like you than you'd prefer to admit."

"Yes, yes, Albus." Severus stopped, breathing heavily. The smell of the blood from his shirt was keeping the Call awake, and right now it was screaming for sustenance. Like an addict who has a taste of his poison after a long dry spell, it was at times like these that he was at his weakest. He had to get out of the blood-soaked robes and shirt… "I will give you a list of the names as soon as I'm able to use my Pensieve. Now - I must go."

"Go, child." Severus nodded and pivoted on his heel. "Wait – take it, Severus. Keep it for later, if you wish, but… please. Take it with you." Severus turned to see Albus holding the Firewhisky bottle out and he reluctantly took it from the older wizard. "Good night, Severus. If you need me on Monday for your classes, just floo me. Or owl me, if you'd prefer."

With no further comment, Severus slammed through the door and whispered a quick Disillusionment charm to allow him to travel the corridors in secrecy. It was well after curfew, but that didn't stop the more adventurous students…

It took him only minutes to reach their rooms. Stopping just inside the door with a sigh of relief, he yanked off his boots and socks, tearing off his outer robe. He could still smell the blood… it was soaked through his robes, his shirt… the blood from his former student… the darkness in him gradually uncoiled as he continued to breathe it in – he shook with the effort to hold back the Call…

With a growl, he strode into the study and ripped off his shirt, throwing both it and the robes into the fire. The fire sputtered and coughed for a moment before resuming its former strength, consuming the clothing until only shreds remained. Severus let out a shaky breath and leaned against the wall beside the hearth. His arms flexed as he clenched his fists, resisting the urges…

At the feel of warm hands on his bare back and he jumped and spun around, jerking away from her touch.

_BIND HER TO YOU._

The words thundered in his mind, no longer a seeping whisper, but a command… an overt command from the Call… and the Gods help him, but he wanted to… his fists unclenched and he almost reached for her before he realized what he was doing.

_No!_

_Gods, no, she has to get out_… _I can't resist it with her here... can't hold back_… the darkness uncoiled further, attempting to reach out for her through his own body.

_Mark her._

_No_! It would ruin everything… all his careful work…

Finally finding his voice, he said callously, "Get out. I told you not to wait up. Go in the bedroom. Sleep."

"I wanted to see… how are you? Wa-"

"Go to bed."

Hermione shook her head, moving closer to him. As he backed away he could see the confusion in her eyes. "Severus, let me help you…"

The darkness in him wanted to answer her – it screamed to reach out and grab her and use her… the blood mating ritual… bind her to him… share the Call… hear the Call… _Bind her to you…_

_NO! _

She was too used to her gentle lover, he had been careful to keep the darker side, the Call of the Blood, from trying to rise up and claim her… iron will.

Iron will.

_Have I ever told you, Severus? Have I ever told you how in awe I am, how much admiration I have, at your ability to turn your back on the Call? To resist it? It is a testament to your will, your strength…_

A testament to his will, indeed… his iron will… Well, tonight the iron was brittle and weak… and the touch of her fingers on his bare skin almost his undoing.

"You can't help."

She frowned at him. "I can – I'm not sure what happened at the meeting, but you're obviously… not happy with it. Let me help take your mind off of things. I can help distract you… from the Call…"

He moaned inwardly… _She wants it… let her distract you… let her feed it… bind her to you… _No! It would ruin all of his manipulations, frightening her… driving her away… but _it_ was calling… more than just the Call, her body, his own desire, uncoiling within him, waves of need coursing through him… A red haze formed at the edges of his vision… _Bind her to you…_

With a snarl, he grabbed her arms and pushed her against the wall. He stopped, his arms trembling, as he fought against himself. "NO! Not tonight, Hermione – the Call… you have to get out of here. I can't…"

Leaning down, unable to stop himself, he kissed her hard, his teeth cutting into her lip. At her gasp of pain he pulled the tattered shreds of his control back around himself and pulled back.

"Do you see?" he whispered harshly, gripping her upper arms tightly. "I cannot give you… your gentle lover is not here tonight Hermione – I'm warning you – I can't… I can't hold back tonight… the Call… it's…" His voice trailed off as he watched her eyes, losing himself… his blood sang… his traitorous blood, urging him to take her, to push her to the edge… to tarnish her innocence… the red haze grew thicker… _Damn it! _The Call was strong. He closed his eyes, turning his head away from her as he forced the words out: "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't, Severus. Just let me help you with this – I'm stronger than you think."

Unconsciously his hands tightened on her arms and his breathing increased, his arousal almost overtaking him. If she stayed much longer, all of his careful planning would be for naught – she would see him as he truly was and no amount of manipulation would change it… if he marked her, if he bound her to him… with blood… He pulled back, dropping his arms. "Go, get in the bedroom." She didn't obey, and to his horror she moved closer to him, pressing herself against him. It was all he could do to gasp out, "Gods, woman – get out of here!"

"No, Severus."

The red haze was returning, her chest heaved and he thought he would lose all control as the iron of his will shattered. "GET OUT! Go in the room, LOCK THE DOOR!" His fingers gripped her arms hard as he shoved her away. She gasped, fear coming into her eyes at last. One slender hand rose and rubbed at her upper arm, where the marks of his fingers stood out lividly against the soft skin.

He felt a cold chill go through him at the sight. His father… he was no better than his father… _NO, I will not be like him, I won't… the Call will NOT take me_, he thought fiercely, his blood running cold. She had to get out… get out before… _I will NOT be like you, Father! _he screamed silently, black eyes flashing.

"GET OUT NOW! GO IN THE ROOM, DAMN YOU!!!!" he screamed at her.

She fled.

As the door closed, he reached over and picked up the bottle of Firewhisky that Albus had given him and stared at it a moment. _The Gods be damned, I will NOT BE LIKE HIM! _his mind screamed as he turned and hurled the bottle into the fireplace. It made a huge shattering sound, the flames shooting up as the enchanted alcohol fed them.

Letting out an inarticulate cry of rage and lust, he stumbled to the fireplace. He pressed his forehead against the cold marble, his hands clenched in fists against the wall above his head… he breathed deliberately, concentrating on regaining his control... trying to summon the strength and will that Dumbledore was so sure he had…

Gods, the temptation to shatter her innocence was too great. He had frightened her when he let his control slide just that small amount. All of his plans, so close to ruin… He pounded the marble with his fists, clenching his eyes shut. He hadn't let his control slip this much since the incident in the Shrieking Shack with Sirius Black… the Call had been strong that night… it was even stronger this night… but it was no longer urging him to seek blood and death… it was urging him for blood, still, but of a different sort…

_Bind her to you._

_Mark her._

He didn't know how long he stood there, just breathing, before he felt familiar warm hands once again on the bare skin of his back. He tensed and straightened, the red haze returning as the darkness took over – the temptation… how long could he fight it? He would soon be lost… Damn it all! He had warned the girl, and despite all his words and actions she foolishly thought to tempt the Call of the Blood…

In a coarse whisper, he said, "I warned you, Hermione. What we've already done is nothing compared to what I want to do… what I'm driven to do… after what happened tonight… I told you, when emotions run strongly… when an Unforgivable is cast…" His voice grew more ragged as he forced the words out. "The Call is too strong in me right now, I won't be able to hold back. _Why are you doing this?_" His trembling hands were still clenched into fists against the wall as he turned his head to fix his black eyes on her.

He immediately regretted it… she had changed her clothing, against all logic or reason… she now wore a thin satin gown held up by tiny straps… straps that were begging him to tear them apart… His eyes trailed down her body, the blood rushing in his ears as he followed the length of pale satin to where it stopped mid-thigh.

"I am going to help you, Severus," she whispered, moving her hands up to his shoulders.

He shook his head, turning to face the wall once more, his control hanging by a mere thread… a thread which was becoming remarkably frayed… "I warned you…"

_Some things cannot be controlled._

"Yes, you did," she said in a confident voice. He could imagine how she must look, determination in her brown eyes, her chin raised rebelliously. "I'm here anyway. I'm your wife, Severus. Remember? Remember the vow? _Will you share each other's pain and seek to ease it_… I swore, Severus. Let me help you… let me help to ease the pain..."

Something within him snapped at her words.

Like a striking snake, he whirled around and grabbed her, shoving her against the wall, pressing his body into hers. Next to them, a log in the fireplace snapped, sending off sparks. "I can't…" He kissed her hard, a shock running through him when he felt her hands move up to tangle in his hair.

"I can't…" Gods, how he wanted her… how he _needed_ her… he needed her to satisfy the lust – the bloodlust, the Call – the urge…

…_blood_ _bonds_… _blood_ _magic_... _possess her… bind her to you…mark her…_

…it was taking him over…

She should have stayed in the room, not simply changed into this gown that did nothing but represent a fantasy image of purity waiting to be debauched. Near defeat, he rested his forehead against hers, trying desperately to regain some modicum of control.

"I want to help you, Severus. I want you. I want _this._"

With a growl, he pressed his body against hers, letting her feel his arousal through the flimsy fabric of her gown. His voice ragged, he said, "I can't hold back, don't you understand – I'm compelled to… _why_, Hermione? Do you open yourself up to the pain? Do you understand?"

"I want to help you; I'll do whatever I can to take your mind off of this – to ease the Call for you. And – the Gods know, I want to feel the full measure of you… all of you, all of the passion I know you possess… it can't all be reserved for anger. Not all of it," she murmured, kissing his cheeks and lips, little kisses fluttering over his skin, igniting his blood.

"Much of it is," he said, his breath harsh and uneven.

She shook her head. "Not all of it." She moved one of her hands, laying it against his cheek.

"Why? You open yourself freely to the pain?"

Her voice was husky as she replied, "Anything. I don't want you to hold back – I've told you that before, Severus, and I meant it – I want this… I want you…"

"Why?" he repeated, lowering his mouth to her neck. Between hard kisses, he whispered feverishly, "Why would you do this? Why? I won't hold back... I _can't_ hold back tonight… the Gods know… I will take you, I will mark you… I will bind you to me… _I will claim you for_ _mine_… Is that what you want?"

"Yes, Gods, yes!"

"Why?" he snarled.

"Because I care about you… because… _Oh_ _Gods_," she moaned as one of his hands moved lower, roughly pressing against the apex of her thighs. "Because I love you, Severus. _You. _All of you, not just the gentle lover like you said earlier – not just the… the _act_ you put on for me… I want to finally see all of you, I want - I _need -_ to experience it all…"

He pulled back and stared at her incredulously as she continued, her mouth centimeters from his, her voice low and thick with need, sultrier than he had ever heard it before, "I want the man that screamed in murderous rage when Sirius Black escaped… I want that passion directed against me… I want the bastard, the sarcastic tongue, the temper, the fury, the _need_… I want all of the man that I love… I want all of _you_."

He stared at her a split second more as her words sunk in. It wasn't just his manipulations… the _act _he put on for her… clever, clever girl, to have seen through that… This amazing, fierce woman actually wanted _him… _it was incredible… she wanted this… something inside his chest began to burn and as the last tattered shreds of his control blew away he lowered his head to kiss her passionately, forcefully. His hands reached around her body to grip her backside, pressing her pelvis hard against his, pulling her away from the wall. His mouth left hers long enough to say, "I will mark you as mine… _Vocatus respondebitur_."

"Yes, oh, Gods, please," she moaned, giving a little scream when he leaned down and threw her over his shoulder, carrying her to the bedroom.

The most basic feminine part of her reveled in the prospect of being utterly and completely taken by this man, this dark, dangerous, passionate man… she would finally feel his full measure, experience all parts of him. Her heart sped with excitement and desire as he threw her down on the mattress and pounced on her, kissing her demandingly before he pulled back and gripped the thin fabric of her nightgown with hands and teeth, ripping the material in a surprising show of strength.

She felt a hot jolt of arousal shoot through her as the fabric tore, as she looked into his manic eyes… He was unbridled, wild, his control gone, and it was the most incredible, thrilling experience to see this side of her husband – a man normally so cool, calm, so ruled by his intellect. Finally she would see the true Severus… the passionate, angry, intense man whose anger was a fright to behold… whose emotions were so strong he kept an iron grip on them at all times…

She moaned again as he kissed her neck roughly, teeth grazing, his hands moving in great hard motions down her body, pausing to pinch her nipples and roll them between his fingers… she arched into the feel and moved her hands to the smooth skin of his back, letting her nails dig in as he bit her neck with enthusiasm. The pain spun her arousal out of control and she distantly wondered if there were something wrong with her – he was biting and sucking at her neck like a vampire, and she wouldn't be surprised if blood had been drawn - but her arousal just kept spiking and she could feel herself running wet.

She felt herself run even wetter when he snatched up the shredded remains of her gown and sat back on his heels, grabbing her wrists and binding them together with the length of satin. _Oh, Gods_… He kissed her roughly and then pulled her higher on the bed, pushing her onto the pile of pillows at the head of the bed and tying her hands to the headboard. He then backed away and slid off the bed, standing and watching her with smoldering eyes as he quickly peeled off the remainder of his own clothes. Then, he climbed back on the bed, bringing his mouth to her breasts.

After a few minutes, during which she couldn't stop herself from pressing into him as far as possible, he lifted his head and gave her a deep kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth with abandon. Then he trailed his lips to her ear, where he bit into the soft earlobe – she let out a squeak at the sensation – and said in an urgent voice, "I have to taste you. I have to mark you. Do you agree to this?"

"Oh, Gods, YES," she panted, twisting her bound wrists, her unbound legs twining around him. "Please…"

She watched with burning eyes as he moved down her body, exploring with everything at his disposal – fingers, hands, mouth… Vaguely she realized that he was murmuring things under his breath as he moved inexorably farther down…

Eventually he reached the place she most wanted him to touch, and her legs parted farther in welcome. "Please…" she moaned as he hovered over her, his lips moving with unheard words.

Finally he buried his head between her legs and his fingers gripped her hips tightly, holding her down. At once both familiar and unfamiliar… She moaned and twisted, her bound hands keeping her from moving too far, the pillows giving her the perfect vantage point…

Suddenly, one hand moved from her hip to between her legs and he turned his head to suck and kiss her inner right thigh. He looked so erotic – his head between her legs, eyes closed, enthusiastically working his mouth over her skin as his hand pleasured her, his long black hair spilling over her thighs…

Again she heard him murmuring – it sounded like an incantation – and then she watched in shock as he bit into the soft, sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. She screamed as the pain lanced through her leg, her hands straining frantically against their bonds. _What did I get myself into? _She was unable to hold back another shriek as he bit harder into the flesh, breaking completely through the skin. At the same time he continued the ministrations of his fingers, and beyond all comprehension she began to feel her stomach tighten… the only thing holding her back from full release was the scorching pain in her thigh. _What in the Gods' names… Oh… Oh, Gods…_ her thoughts shattered as the pain began to sharpen to a point, somehow heightening the pleasure she felt…

Severus continued to murmur as he pulled back and licked at the injured flesh – she could see dark blood welling from the circle of wounds. _He _did _mark me, oh, Gods…_ she thought, throwing her head back with a loud moan when his fingers found that spot inside her, her splayed legs trembling as she hovered on the edge.

Oddly, at the sound of her moan he pulled his hand away. The bite mark was beginning to grow strangely warm, and when she looked down she saw that he was tracing a pattern across it, the blood that welled from the punctures coating the tip of his finger as he whispered. An unnatural feeling of heat overtook her thigh, radiating from the bite, and a shock of desire hit her so strongly that she growled and wrestled against the restraints holding her hands from where they wanted to be.

He raised a bloody finger to her nipples, coating them with crimson… and then he brought his finger back down to wipe some of the blood over her folds. The entire time, he continued with the soft murmuring.

"What-" she began, swallowing her words when he suddenly moved his mouth back to her center, sucking and pulling, tongue working furiously. As he moved, his left cheek was being painted with red from her thigh and for some reason the sight excited her almost beyond endurance.

He pulled back slightly, one hand rubbing the bite mark, and caught her gaze. "Come for me, Hermione," he commanded before bringing his mouth back against her.

Pure heat began to radiate from the bite mark, mingling with the heat from where Severus' mouth was working its magic, and it soon overwhelmed her… she screamed, back arching, legs shaking, her entire body shuddering as she came harder than she ever had before… he continued his attentions until she fell back against the bed, breath coming out in panting sobs.

Severus pulled his head back and watched her with heat in his eyes as he drew a finger slowly over the mark. He moved up her body, licking her nipples clean before raising his finger to her mouth and wiping the blood across her bottom lip. Her breathing began to increase again as she saw the pure lust in his eyes – eyes that were, finally, unguarded and open… passionate, burning with want… with _need_. She slowly brought her tongue to the corner of her lip, tasting the blood he had left. It was warm, tingling…

He groaned loudly then and crushed against her, his tongue licking the rest of the blood from her lips before his mouth pressed against hers in a scorching kiss. He pulled back and stared at her, his eyes raking her body greedily as he reached up and untied her hands. Her eyes were drawn to his left cheek, where some of his hair was caught in the drying blood, and she gasped as a fiery jolt ran from the mark on her thigh to her center.

Bringing his eyes back to her face he moved into position between her legs, which immediately wrapped around his hips even as her arms wrapped around his back.

"You are mine – _mine_," he murmured and she threw her head back, screaming, as he took her. His eyes, shining black and burning, bore into her as he moved.

This was so much more… so much more intense than ever before… his grunts and growls… the unrestrained movement of his body… the pain from her leg somehow turning to a sharpening point of pleasure, echoing the feeling growing in her center as he angled his hips just so…

She cried out again as she felt a great tension building in her… the bite on her leg was burning hotter and hotter, and as the tension built it became almost unbearable…

"Hermione… draw my blood…" he ordered breathlessly, the hot air from his mouth warming her cheek and forehead as he moved over her. She instantly obeyed, digging her nails into the sweat-slicked skin of his back, bringing her teeth to his shoulder and biting down. She was hesitant at first, until his growl of appreciation sparked something within her – without restraint, she bit into him ferociously, tasting his blood in her mouth… her own blood sang in response… "Kiss me," he commanded, and she moved her mouth from his shoulder to meet his lips, sharing with him the taste of his own blood.

Inconceivably, as his lips touched her bloodied ones, his movements came harder and faster even than before, and she felt herself spiraling out of control, her blood singing louder in her veins, a warmth spreading from the heels of her feet up her legs… He continued his rhythm even as he brought a hand to his shoulder, wiping some of the blood up with one finger – a finger that he then brought down to the bite mark on her inner thigh. Between movements, he swiped the bloodied finger across it.

The burning heat intensified tenfold and she opened her mouth, gasping silently as his eyes locked with hers, as she saw his lips moving… _oh, Gods, it _is_ an incantation_. Suddenly, the pain in her thigh shot through her, the heat spreading from that one spot… no, the two spots… spreading through her veins like liquid fire, and a scream tore from her throat as the pain and pleasure hit her hard, her entire body shuddering, her nails dragging deep marks across his back, her legs shaking, lungs burning as she gasped great gulps of air… and then she heard his answering roar – the sound seemingly causing the very walls to vibrate. Then, the liquid fire traveling through her veins reached her head and everything began to go black… before she lost consciousness, she distantly hearing him whisper, "_Ad Sanguinis Vocatum Responde_.

"Mine, mine…"

--------

When she awoke, she was in the bathtub, a gentle hand rubbing her with lather. "Severus?" she whispered. She felt a rumble through his chest, and realized that she was leaning against him. Turning her head slightly, she looked up at him. "What-"

"I thought you would appreciate it if I washed the blood off before it dried," he said softly.

"Mmm," she said in appreciation as the hand cleaned her breasts. "Good thinking." She sat silently for a moment, leaning against his chest, enjoying the feel of him washing her. "Severus… that was… it was amazing."

A rumbling chuckle. "I'm glad you approved… I was concerned that you wouldn't find such things… appealing."

She snuggled against him then. "Rest assured that I found it _very _appealing." They sat in silence for a time until she mustered the energy to ask, "What… what was the incantation about? And the bite on my thigh?"

He went still for a moment before wrapping his arms around her. "I marked you."

"Evidently that has some sort of significance beyond what I originally thought," she said. "Was it… is it blood magic?"

"Yes."

She sat for a moment in silence, pondering her next words. "Does it have anything to do with the Call?"

"Yes." His voice was short and clipped, but not unkind, and his hands rubbed her skin soothingly. If nothing else, the episode had made him more relaxed around her.

"Is it dangerous?"

"No, it was designed as a… protective measure," he said softly. "It is a very ancient incantation… the blood mating ritual… we are bound, now, by blood." He pressed his face into her hair, breathing deeply before he said, "I warned you."

"And I'm glad I ignored your warnings," she said, smiling lazily. Lifting her leg, she inspected the bite mark and gasped in shock. It had healed completely, leaving an uneven circle of shiny silver scars, but that wasn't what had shocked her. In the center of the circle there was what appeared to be a blood-red tattoo of a wyvern with a dagger beside it… identical to the symbol that appeared on Severus' seal. "It's your seal…"

"Yes."

"A protective measure, you said? I guess I should thank you. And, Severus," she said, pulling away and facing him.

"Mmm?" he asked, his eyes already roving over her body greedily.

"Don't ever hold back again," she whispered huskily. There were other questions she had, other questions she would ask, but not right now. Snaking her arms around his neck she captured his lips in a deep kiss. A kiss that he enthusiastically returned.

* * *

A/N: My sincere apologies for this being late – I am recovering from a kidney infection last week which completely drained my will to live (much less write fanfic). Am now on Cipro and feeling much better, though I still get tired easily. Anyhoo – I hope you enjoyed the chapter – it was a big one plot-wise and relationship-wise (which is why I didn't want to rush it). Please review and let me know what you thought!!

Special thanks to YsM for her Latin translations:

_Ad Sanguinis Vocatum responde_ - Answer the Call of the Blood

_Vocatus respondebitur_ - The Call will be answered.

Fanfiction.net readers – Originally the entire chapter appeared here, but due to new Fanfiction.net regulations I have edited it down. The full version can be found at ashwinder.sycophanthex.com and adultfanfiction.net.

Serpens Potio – Thanks for the review! Yep, the three are now officially Severus, Moody, and Ollivander.

Tasya – The Blood Rites is the "Payment Offered, Blood Accepted" thing that Hermione caught a glimpse of in an earlier chapter. The blood mating ritual is what occurred this chapter (and I'm biting my fingernails hoping it doesn't get me kicked off ff.net!)

Witch of Darkness – Hope this chapter answered your questions on the wand changing.

Mistress Nymphadora – Thanks for the review! There are so few Slytherin students to choose from… lol!

LeMasque, Innogen, Arafel2, Ankle, Sola Bela, Dakota, Jamie, CaretoDream – Thanks for reviewing!

. 


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. **The Call of the Blood and the concepts associated with it are my creations – please email me if you wish to use them or a derivative of them in a story. **

Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 18

~~~~~~~

Severus lay in the bed, staring at the bed curtains above him. In a fit of pique after the last Slytherin/Gryffindor match, Hermione had changed the colors from black and green to a deep purple. He had sneered, of course, but was in truth highly amused. At least she had had the presence of mind to avoid changing them to red and gold. He sighed, realizing that this line of thought was just his mind's way of avoiding what had occurred the night before. 

He had tried to resist the Call's demands, but his control had been too weak. Brittle and weak. Had it been slowly wearing away, these past weeks? Ever since the young woman had entered his chambers, had seeped into his private life? He shook his head. It little mattered, now. Whatever the cause, his control had shattered the night before, and the shards had cut him. 

Glancing over at Hermione, he sighed again. He had wanted to shield her from the Call as much as possible… what affect would the marking have on her? What affect would her participation in a blood ritual have on the lure she already felt for the Dark Arts? How close was she to succumbing, and would this blood ritual assist the Call in gaining a hold over her? He shook his head. It had been a foolish risk… if only she had listened to him, had stayed in the room…

Ollivander's words from the week before echoed in his mind. 

_You may not have a choice, Snape. It could benefit the girl._

_Some things cannot be controlled._

Gods. 

_What had he done? _Given in to the Call… allowed it to dictate his actions… and to what end? To what benefit? His eyes narrowed as a familiar question entered his mind. A question that had lingered in his mind since first hearing the Call's demands. 

_Why _did the Call want them bound together? 

_Well, _he amended silently, _not together, precisely. _While it had demanded that he bind her to him, it had not demanded the secondary binding that he had initiated when he ordered her to draw his blood. Unconsciously he ran his fingers over his shoulder, feeling the smooth scars from Hermione's teeth. He still didn't quite know what had possessed him to have her put a binding on him… and he was certain she didn't realize the implications. 

He wasn't entirely sure he understood them himself.

It had been years since he had studied a Book of the Blood… years since he had learned of the blood mating ritual. He had not, even during his initial study of it, paid a great deal of attention to the ritual, assuming that he would have no use for it. As a result he had only vague memories of the ritual and, overcome by lust as he had been the evening before, it would have been impossible to perform without the Call's assistance - even had he remembered the exact incantations and sequence to the ritual. 

It wasn't until near the end, when he felt her nails against his back, that he had recalled the possibility of a secondary binding. Without thinking, he had enacted it… 

… but he still didn't know for certain why.

There was one thing he did know for certain, however – the Dark Lord must never find out about the secondary binding. While he was within his rights to mark her, he doubted the Dark Lord would look kindly on his 'loyal' servant bearing the blood mark of a Muggleborn witch.

The young woman beside him sighed and shifted in her sleep, causing a mass of tangled hair to fall across her face and catch on her eyelashes. Gingerly, he pushed the hair back and smiled slightly. It really was an unruly mess much of the time… wild, untamed, fierce… so different from his own lank locks. 

It fit her. 

Staring down at his wife, he felt a sort of peace steal over him. He was still astonished at how effortlessly she had invaded his life… it felt at times as if she had always been there – while at other times he felt a sort of surprised alarm, wondering how she came to inhabit his rooms… and his life. Certain things were difficult to become accustomed to, of course… he was used to his solitude. It had, however, been a much smoother transition than he had anticipated. Even aside from the obvious side benefits. After the first week he discovered that she also craved private time and space. Quietly reading in the study while she sprawled on the carpet or curled in one of the armchairs had become a standard evening practice for them, and one that suited them both well. He grudgingly admitted that he was, indeed, becoming fond of her.

He studiously avoided thinking of the words she had said before the blood mating ritual.   

He lay back down, staring up at the bed curtains once again. The Call was silent, satisfied for the moment, and that in itself worried him. Generally after a blood ritual was performed, the Call was awake, needy… worse than after casting an Unforgivable. So why, now, was it dormant? 

_Because it achieved what it wanted to achieve… using me as the tool. But to what purpose?_

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Hermione eyed Severus as he sat next to her on the couch. They had finished breakfast – eaten in their chambers - and were now relaxing with a cup of tea. Her eyes were drawn to his chest, where the dressing robe had opened slightly… with a mental shake, she forced her attention back to the questions that had been on the tip of her tongue since she awoke that morning. "What can you tell me about the marking?"

Severus shifted uncomfortably. "It is… a protective measure. Ancient."

"You've told me that much already – what are the effects? Is it permanent?" Hermione's eyes narrowed. Why was he so hesitant to tell her? 

Severus hesitated. "I am… unclear on all of the effects. It has been long since I studied the ritual."

Hermione stared at him incredulously. "But… how did you… how could you have performed-"

"The Call." She stared at him blankly and he scowled in response. "It guided me. It has been demanding…" His voice trailed off and he stared at the fire. 

She was quick to pick up on his meaning. "Why? Why would it want…"

"I do not know."

A tangible silence fell between them.

"Is it… is there a book, that I could re-"

Before she could finish her thought, she was cut off. 

"No." Standing from the chair, Severus began to pace. "It is… it only appears in a Book of the Blood. It is a blood ritual, Hermione, and closely tied to the Call." He didn't meet her eyes as he said, "And it is permanent. That much I know."

Permanent. No wonder he didn't meet her eyes. "I see," she said slowly. He cut a glance at her and she was taken aback by the hardness in his gaze.

"I warned you."

Hermione let out a breath. "We've been over that already, Severus. All right. So it's meant for protection. How?"

Severus ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it further. "I am not clear on… I must study the effects. But… from what I remember, extreme emotion will enact the link. Fear, pain… I will know, should any of these emotions become overwhelming to you. Or-"

"Or what?"

Severus shook his head sharply. "I will be able to Apparate to your location, if I feel any of these things through the link."

Hermione stared at him suspiciously. He was obviously off-balance – Severus Snape, consummate Slytherin, rarely made blatant verbal errors. What was he so concerned about? "What were you about to say before? Or _what_?"

Severus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Or if a man – other than myself - should touch the mark. I will be… alerted." 

Hermione sucked in a breath, shocked at the implications. "So you've branded me like a… like a farm animal, you're telling me? With your seal, no less… like a possession?" 

"I knew you would react-" He stopped abruptly before continuing, "Why does this bother you so much? Are you planning on other men touching you on the bare skin of your inner thigh, Hermione?" She shook her head violently.

"Of course not… it's just the idea of it… women being treated like property…"

"I do not see you as property, Hermione." He had turned his face away from her, staring towards the fireplace, but she could practically hear him rolling his eyes. She pursed her lips in annoyance. 

"I heard you, you know. Before I… before I passed out."

His shoulders tensed and he turned towards her. His expression was guarded. "What did you hear?"

"I heard you say 'Mine.'"

Was that a glint of relief in his eyes? "It didn't bother you last night, why is it an issue now?" His tone was one of reasonable patience, and it infuriated her. 

Her voice shaking with suppressed emotion, she said, "Maybe because I've had time to think about it some more… no – that's not it. It's just… just that it's not fair. You've marked _me_, but I have no hold over _you_…" She looked down at her hands, scowling. 

A silky whisper answered her. "Is that what you think?" 

She looked up in surprise as he glided to where she sat. "With only your blood, it would be a simple binding, Hermione. The mark of a man's property." She felt her face darken with indignation and opened her mouth to speak but stopped when he held up a hand. "_With only your blood_."

She frowned slightly and then the realization hit her. "But you had me draw your blood, too…"

His eyes flashed as he pulled the dressing gown from his shoulder. While there was no symbol in the middle, the silvery circle of scars was present. Immediately, she bit her lip. She felt like a fool. "Oh," she said numbly.

He sneered and looked away from her. "And now it is evident just how far you trust me." His voice sounded strange – it held an almost disappointed note - and the thought of that cut her more deeply than she could have imagined. 

"Severus, you know I trust you. If I didn't, I never would have agreed to this… and I certainly would never have come out of that room last night. I more than trust you… like I told you last night." She paused and took a deep breath, relieved when he turned back to face her, his face expressionless. "But when you only give me half of an explanation, with something like this… how did you expect-"

She stopped when he put a long finger against her lips. "I know. I explained it rather crudely." She nodded slightly, knowing that that was all the apology she was likely to get. His hand shifted to cup her cheek and, with a questioning glance at him, she raised one hand to trace the scar on his shoulder – her mark. She didn't miss the slight shudder that went through him at the contact, nor the sudden intensity of his stare.  

"What does this do? Will I be able to feel your emotions, also… when they're strong?" He nodded, and her breath caught as she noted the openness of his gaze, the naked hunger that formed as he watched her. She shifted closer to him, pressing her body against him as she continued to outline the scar with her fingertips. "I think I feel something now," she said mischievously. 

A corner of his lip quirked up in sly smile. "That's not my emotions, my dear."

"I know."

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

That evening, Severus, taking advantage of Albus' belief that he was still under the influence of the Call, informed the Headmaster that while he could handle his classes on Monday it would be best to have someone else take his hall duties for the weekend. After Severus stepped back from the fireplace, Hermione turned to him with a curious look.

"I thought you liked hall duty. Catching misbehaving students, draining the House Points from less deserving Houses, that sort of thing." 

"I did before, but now…" he paused almost imperceptibly "… I have other things on my mind. It is just a distraction from what I must concentrate on."

She was certain that that wasn't what he had meant to say at first, but she didn't press him on it. He had told her what had occurred at the meeting the evening before and she didn't wish to thrust him back into a dark mood when he was just pulling out of one. With a playful smile, she said, "I thought you liked distractions."

He pulled her against him for a quick kiss. "Mmm. You are correct. But not of that sort." She would have attempted to deepen the contact but he appeared preoccupied. 

"What is it, Severus?"

He sighed and looked down at her. "I do not know how much longer we will be able to stall the Dark Lord. Before you are called I want to have some solid evidence of your… value… to him."

Hermione tilted her head. "I'm supposed to be feeding you information on Harry, right?" He nodded sharply. "Well, then, I should feed you some information. Or… better yet… why don't we stage a conversation with Harry? You could overhear us talking, and then later I'll tell you all about it – showing that I'm not only valuable, but I trust you."

"And we can mislead the Dark Lord at the same time…" Leaning down he kissed her more thoroughly. "At times I see some Slytherin tendencies in you, my dear."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said wryly.  

Monday evening, she heartily regretted her suggestion. After the relatively relaxing weekend she and Severus had shared, it was difficult to plunge into a day of rowdy students and grading papers. But, by far the most difficult part of the day was the evening meeting with Harry and Severus. While it had proven simple to persuade Harry to come down to the Potions classroom to stage a conversation, it had not proven so simple to have her friend and husband in the same room. After a tense beginning and a few sarcastic remarks – on both sides – she was ready to tear her hair out.

"It is time to emphasize Hermione's usefulness to the Dark Lord, Potter. I thought you would be willing to assist us in this endeavor but I obviously put too much stock in the vaunted Gryffindor loyalty."

Harry's green eyes glinted angrily as he glared at Severus. Hermione shook her head and let out an irritated breath. They were both being ridiculous… if Severus would just hold back his sarcastic comments – like that one - then Harry wouldn't have gotten his back all ruffled. If Harry didn't tried to take over, then Severus wouldn't have spat out those sneering comments… And since they were both ridiculously stubborn, unwilling to back down an inch… 

Seeing Harry's mouth form an angry retort, she realized that she could take no more. 

Furious, she turned on Harry. "This is ridiculous. First of all - Harry, just stop it. Severus is trying to help both of us here. All you have to do is stage a discussion with me where Severus can conveniently overhear. He's not asking much." Hermione knew she should have stopped after that statement, but then she turned to look at Severus and saw his gloating expression. Fueled by a renewed irritation, she spat out, "And Severus – maybe if you stopped talking to him like a first year he'd be more open to your suggestions."

Both men stared at her with narrowed eyes, and they looked so similar in expression that she burst out laughing. Harry's face relaxed at the sound and he let out a chuckle of his own, but Severus' face just grew more thunderous. Scowling, she met her husband's eyes evenly, her arms crossed over her chest, and was relieved when he finally pursed his lips and nodded curtly. She sighed inwardly. He would likely be in a snit the rest of the evening, but they would never get anything done if the two of them continued sniping at each other. 

"Can we start, now?"

"Sure."

"Certainly."

"Good. Severus, go in your office. Harry, stay here," she snapped. To her surprise, both men followed her instructions without further argument. 

_I really have to remember that tone of voice…_

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Friday evening, exactly one week from the day Adrian Pucey was murdered, Severus was Summoned to an Inner Circle meeting. Immediately upon appearing in the muddy field, the Dark Lord called Severus forward to give a report on his progress with Hermione.

As he knelt on the damp ground, he gave his report. 

"Rise, Severus." With a slight grimace, he pulled his knees from the muddy earth and stood. Many of the Death Eaters were traditionalists and only wore robes with no underlying trousers, but Severus had quickly learned the value of an extra layer between his skin and the ground. 

"Her trust has grown, then?"

"Yes, my Lord. It does appear so. She has approached me regarding her friend Potter – she is… concerned… for him."

The Dark Lord laughed, and the cold sound made the skin on his back crawl. "Your young wife is intelligent, Severus, as you said. She _should_ be concerned for her young friend." The red eyes narrowed. "But… does her concern for him overcome her trust in you? I want her brought to our way of thinking, Severus."

"My Lord – that will be most difficult…" Severus' throat went dry as he tried to think of way to explain without raising the Dark Lord's ire. "She may come to understand my loyalties because of her trust in me, but to embrace our mission completely… that, I fear, would be beyond anyone's capabilities this early. Particularly after her parents' deaths."

The Dark Lord remained silent, staring at Severus. Severus held his breath until the powerful wizard slowly nodded. "You will bring her before me."

His blood froze at the statement. It was the moment he had been dreading. There would be no more stalling, no more delaying. His young wife, his young Muggleborn wife who had – beyond all logic or reason – earned his trust, would have to face the Dark Lord. His stomach twisted at the thought.

"My Lord." Severus' mind raced. "A meeting location such as this-" with a dismissive gesture, he indicated the muddy surroundings "-will do little to convince her of your power and strike awe in her heart. And – though I am sure you have considered this, I feel I must mention - the Zabini boy…" __

The Dark Lord nodded. "Of course. The girl is too conspicuous – her presence with you would reveal your identity to the new recruits. I had in mind a more palatable location… MacNair's Inner Circle gathering should suffice."

"You are wise, my Lord," Severus intoned, bowing his head low and biting back a relieved sigh. MacNair held a yearly dinner party of sorts for the higher-ranking members of the Inner Circle. There would be fewer Death Eaters present and that, in and of itself, should make the situation easier to handle for Hermione. 

"And what have you learned of Potter?" 

Severus looked up and met the Dark Lord's eyes. "The fear continues to gnaw at him, my Lord… and I believe your attack will be a surprise. He does not expect any movement from you before the end of the school year. The old fool believes the same." 

As he felt the Dark Lord's mind probing his, Severus allowed selected images to spin out… overseeing a Quidditch match… the 'overheard' conversation between Hermione and Potter… looming over a younger Longbottom while taking points from Gryffindor for yet another melted cauldron… Hermione, telling him that she trusted him… Potter shaking his hand, telling him he wasn't such a 'bad sort'… the discussion with Hermione, listening as she detailed the exchange that he has already 'overheard'… Along with the images, he suffused his mind with feelings of loyalty, pride in his Master, disdain for the foolish boy who thought to rise against them…

The Dark Lord stepped back and smiled coldly. "You have pleased me, my servant. Your plan is going well – the chit trusts you, Potter is even beginning to warm to you… to you, my faithful servant… I believe your service has earned you a move. I am more in need of cunning minds as the time grows near for our attack." 

Severus held his breath, hope blossoming in his chest. As before, the Dark Lord reached over and grabbed Severus' left arm, pushing up the sleeve of his robe to expose the Dark Mark. A single white finger traced the Mark on his forearm, and it burned with a fierce fire… he almost gagged at the pain of it. The last raising hadn't burned this much…he knew it was a promise, of sorts, of how much more would be required of him as a member of higher standing. 

A short incantation later, the Dark Lord released his arm and stood back. "Severus. My spy. My loyal servant. Take your new place in my Inner Circle beside your brother Lucius." 

Severus bowed deeply. "Thank you, my Lord. I live to serve."

With a triumphant smile – hidden behind his mask – he moved to his new position in the Circle. He didn't miss the furious glint in Lucius' eyes as he passed in front of the blond man. No, Lucius was not pleased at this turn of events. Particularly after his son undoubtedly reported that Hermione and Severus' relationship had suffered no ill effects after his return from the last meeting, when the Call had been so obviously active in his blood. The malevolent look in the blond man's eyes warned him that another attempt at sabotaging his plans would likely come soon. 

One step closer. He was now equal to Lucius in the Circle standings, and his new position was both more secure and more dangerous than ever. 

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

_It's finally happened. _

_I'm going to have to see the Dark Lord. In person. Face to face._

_I feel kind of numb about it, really. I knew it would happen; Severus warned me that it would happen. I didn't really even notice the passage of time lately – I've gotten into a routine with what I'm calling my "new life" – and the time has just slipped through my fingers. Maybe because I expected this all to be so much harder than it has been. Severus has been… I use amazing too much, but that's all there is to it. So different from what I expected – oh, he's still a bastard. Sneering, smirking… but he's my bastard. And now I know I can trust him, it's fun to spend time with him. He's never gone to the depths that I expected he would – he was such a bastard all those years in class, and I just expected that when he got to know me better he would just have more ammunition. But it seems like the more we learn about each other the more we understand each other… so many of his comments that everyone else sees as just nasty are really quite funny. Harry still doesn't get it, but I can't really expect him to. _

_Harry… he's scared. He knows the end of this year will likely be the final confrontation, for good or bad. At least he's finally starting to soften up towards Severus. I made it clear to them both that they're both important to me – Severus is not the evil bastard Harry thought he was, and Harry isn't the incompetent idiot that Severus thought he was… oh, all right. Severus still thinks that, but at least he's learning to hide it better. A little better. All right, not much better, but he's kind of making an effort. I'm laughing a little as I write this._

Well, anyway, in a couple of weeks I'll be attending some sort of Death Eater Dinner Party at one of the head Death Eater's houses. Lucius Malfoy will be there, but Draco won't. Maybe only facing one of them at a time will be easier… but probably not. Severus has threatened to take my wand if I make any moves towards the bastard. He may have to. I don't want to jeopardize his position – his life, really – but it will be hard not to react if Malfoy says something to me. Or if he dares to act all falsely sympathetic, sneering down his nose at the little 'Mudblood' who 'lost' her parents and her boyfriend. Severus tries to tell me that the Death Eaters aren't all bad, they're really just regular people who are trying to preserve the traditional wizarding culture, but how can I believe that when Malfoy is one of them? Or maybe the ones like Malfoy are just aberrations? 

_It's hard to tell. _

Hermione sighed with relief and closed the journal. She and Severus had discussed what to write in it extensively after he returned from his meeting the evening before, and she had been on pins and needles the entire time she had the quill on the paper. She thought she had covered the main points… the trick was making it sound natural, like something a young woman would actually write about in a personal journal. 

Glancing at the clock, she saw that she still had a little bit of time before she was to meet Ginny for another Hogsmeade shopping day. She was looking forward to it - they hadn't had much chance to talk lately. Harry had insisted on going, but Ginny had threatened him with a few of her more imaginative hexes if he didn't leave them alone for a while so they could really talk. 

She winced a bit as a cramp hit her. This ought to be the last day of her cycle, at least. Which would be both good and bad… she had, at Severus' urging, consented to a few bouts of exploratory sex during her period this time and she had to admit it was rather enjoyable. Particularly the wildness he displayed as a result of the blood… another thing she had no idea she'd find appealing. Of course she had insisted on the shower as the only acceptable location – she just didn't think she could deal with the mess, otherwise, cleaning spells or no – and needless to say they had both been rather clean that week. She smirked at the thought. 

Severus had left early to attend some Head of House meetings and then, later in the day, he would oversee the Slytherin Quidditch team's practice. Evidently there had been some issues during the last practice between a couple of the members and he wanted to keep an eye on them. She hoped they behaved – the last thing she needed on a Saturday evening was a Severus in a bad mood. Shaking her head, she picked up her cloak and left the rooms to meet Ginny and Harry in the entry hall. 

"Didn't see you at breakfast much this week," Ginny commented as they made their way down the well-worn path to Hogsmeade. Harry looked at Ginny askance and Hermione had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. The mischievous glance from the redhead confirmed Hermione's suspicions – she was trying to get rid of Harry. 

_Might as well play along_, Hermione decided.

"Well, we've been… busy… in the mornings this week, Ginny. If you know what I mean," Hermione said in an overtly suggestive voice, noting Harry's grimace with an inward smile.

"Well, I don't blame you, if what you've been telling us is true. Does he really-"

"All right – I know what you two are doing," Harry interrupted. Hermione and Ginny turned to look at him with identical raised eyebrows. "And it's working. I'll leave you alone once we get to Hogsmeade – I want to check out the Quidditch shop anyway"

"Don't forget to stop by and see Fred and George. They missed you last time," Ginny said. Harry nodded, and the rest of the walk was filled with discussions of the latest Weasley twin inventions… to Harry's obvious relief. 

Once they reached Hogsmeade, Harry remained true to his word and left them to their own devices. They spent a pleasant morning browsing and engaging in idle chatter. Eventually they found their way to the Three Broomsticks for a couple of butterbeers.

"So. Still going all right with the big bat?" Ginny said casually as they sat down. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Yes. More than all right, really." Ginny took a sip of her butterbeer and raised her eyebrows in silent inquiry. Hermione smiled a little. "Well, that thing I was concerned about… it's fine now."

"Really?" Ginny grinned at her. "So… were we right? Wild and untamed?"

"That doesn't even come close, Ginny." 

"Hmm. Well, I'm happy for you. If you're happy."

"I am." 

They sat in a comfortable silence for a time until Ginny said, "So how is the apprenticeship coming along? I heard some first years complaining that you're almost as mean as your husband." 

Hermione laughed out loud at that. "Oh they did, did they? I'll have to tell Severus that. He'd be proud."

"Most likely," Ginny said. "They're also really impressed. What was the thing you did last week? They were all raving about it after class that day in the Common Room. You're evidently mean, but brilliant."

Hermione's heart lurched at the comment and Ginny looked at her with concern. She shook her head mutely, unable to speak until Ginny reached out and grabbed one of her hands. "It's all right… what you said just reminded me of what Ron used to call me." 

_They will pay. I will make them pay._

"Brilliant, but scary," Ginny whispered. Hermione nodded, and the redhead's mouth drew up in a half-smile. "He was right, you know."

A laugh burst from her before she could stop herself, and she was surprised to hear Ginny joining in. After a few moments Hermione shook her head and took a sip of her butterbeer. "Sorry about that. It just hits at the weirdest times…"

"Yeah. I know what you mean." Ginny paused to watch as a few fourth years passed their table on their way to the bar. "Well. So what did you do, anyway, Miss Brilliant-But-Mean?"

Hermione shrugged. "Minerva wanted me to do a demonstration of my study topic. I've been able to do liquid Transfigurations, but the gas Transfigurations are still giving me trouble. I can get the molecules to squeeze themselves together-" 

"Is this Muggle science or something?"

"Oh. Right – sorry. I forgot you never studied anything like this. I picked up some Muggle science texts when I was in London with Severus. Well, to make a long story short, I transfigured a ball out of air."

Ginny's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "A ball? A solid ball?" Hermione nodded. "That's amazing! And you did it with Muggle science?"

"Well, it's helping me with the theory. I've just got to figure out a way to keep the molecules compacted – the solid only lasts a short time before it turns back into a gas. Air, in this case."

"Wow. That's pretty neat – no wonder they were all excited."

Hermione nodded and then winced as another cramp hit her. Ginny looked at her in concern. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine – just cramps."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "But I thought you missed breakfast this week because you two were…" Hermione felt her cheeks go warm as Ginny's voice trailed off. 

"He… um, well, he doesn't mind, see. He… he likes it, really…"

The redhead's next words caused Hermione to drop her butterbeer: "Oh, that's right. The Call of the Blood."

_____________________________________________________________________

A/N: All right, it is a minor cliffhanger. But I've been good through most of the story, so I think I deserve a cliffie or two ;). The next scenes really need to go together in their own chapter, and I didn't want another thirty pager for this chappie, so I had to cut it here. Please read and review!!!

McWitch – Thank you for each and every review! I'm glad you appreciate my call of the blood theory/idea.

Drusilla – Thanks for reviewing. You're right – Hermione is independent. However, in the last chapter she hadn't had time to really digest what had happened and the implications (too emotionally/physically charged at the time) – that was for this chapter and the next couple. 

PhoenixFeather – Thanks so much for your reviews, I'm glad you're enjoying it. I saw your post on WIKTT and am flattered that you chose to read my story.

Le Masque – Thank you for your review and your comment on my Snape – I'm trying to keep him in character within the scope of what's happening in the story. 

Iamtired – Thank you so much for your review! I did have to do a cliffie on this chapter, and I apologize – I try not to (well, in my previous story which was a mystery it was almost a must, so that's not entirely true ;) ). 

Wallflower – Thanks for the review! All I can say about your comments and questions is: keep reading ;). I don't want to give things away. The clues for Ollivander: his strange comments to Hermione in Chapter 12 when they visit Diagon Alley and Severus' reaction to them and her future musings concerning the wand switch, and why someone would need a wand switch.

Arafel, Daintress, Jinxd n Cursed, Liraniel, IronmaYden, Dakota, Leyna Rountree, CarEtoDreaM, Jean jelly bean, PerfidaAnima, Jo Halcyon, Makalani Astral – Thanks so much for reviewing!!!


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. **The Call of the Blood and the concepts associated with it are my creations – please email me if you wish to use them or a derivative of them in a story. **

Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 19

~~~~~~~~

"Oh, that's right. The Call of the Blood."

Hermione sat, stunned, as Ginny casually pulled out her wand and cleaned up the butterbeer spreading across the table. 

"You ought to be more careful, Hermione."

"How… what… I…"

Ginny smiled slightly. "I assumed Professor Snape would've discussed it with you – you live with him, after all."

Hermione shook her head. "But… you… how did _you_-" Hermione stopped, irritated at her own inability to articulate anything. But it was such a shock…

Ginny's casual expression hardened for a moment. "Tom."

_Blood magic. It was one of Tom's favorite things… _

The diary. Of course. But how much did Ginny know? How much _could_ she know? Ginny began to speak, as if hearing Hermione's unspoken question. Her voice was low to avoid eavesdroppers.

"I learned a lot from him. I don't remember any of it in specifics… it's in flashes – an image here, a phrase there… it's the emotions I remember more. What Tom felt, when he thought about certain things…" Ginny trailed off and stared down at her butterbeer. "He possessed me, used me to perform the blood magic…"

"Mrs. Norris," Hermione breathed. "The warning… written in blood…"

Ginny nodded. "It was a blood ritual. It was supposed to create fear and suspicion. I… fought against him… he wanted me to use human blood, but I couldn't…" Ginny's voice grew harsh and she stopped for a moment, clearing her throat before continuing. "Near the end, he wasn't just possessing me anymore. _We were the same person._ I don't know how many people really realized that. We shared the same life energy… mine… until Harry killed him, of course. Well, until Harry destroyed the diary… it was the link."

"Gods, Ginny…"

Ginny shrugged. "I should be grateful, really. What I learned from him… what I felt, through him, from the Call… well. It's one of the things that kept me from turning to the Dark Arts after Ron was killed. I would have been tempted, otherwise."

Hermione froze in her chair, unable to meet the redhead's eyes. The conversations around them rose and fell in a normal rhythm, blissfully unaware of the dark discussion occurring between the two young witches in the corner. "So you learned… you learned about the Call from Tom, then. From the diary. But he was still young when that was made, was he already-"

"Already. He learned it when he was young… I don't know how young. Studied it on his own, made some… friends… that helped him learn the blood magics. But then… I got the feeling that something happened. Maybe they tried to betray him? I don't know. Anyway, I know that afterwards he swore that any of his followers would answer to the Call and would pledge Blood Loyalty."

"Blood Loyalty?" 

"I told you, I don't know all the details, Hermione – I can remember a flash in my mind, a picture when he thought about it. Two parallel scars on someone's right side." Hermione sucked in her breath and she kept her face even with an effort.

_Two parallel scars on someone's right side._

An image of Severus flashed in her mind, an image of the line of parallel scars running down his right side… she remembered asking about them, and hearing his curt answer. _There are many blood rituals. Many blood magics._

But there were four scars on his right side, she was sure of it. What did it mean? Was it still from a Blood Loyalty pledge, or something else? 

Realizing she had been silent too long, she shook the image from her head and looked up at Ginny. The redhead was watching her speculatively. Finally finding her voice, Hermione asked, "What… what does it do? The Blood Loyalty?"

Ginny's eyes flicked to the crowded room before answering in a low voice. "I only saw images from Tom. But Remus told me-"

"Remus? You talked to Remus about this?"

Ginny shook her head, upper lip curling slightly. "Merlin, Hermione, for someone so smart… the most powerful dark wizard in the world possessed me, made me perform blood rituals and… and other acts, and then shared my life energy. Do you really think Dumbledore just let me go on my merry way after all of that?"

Hermione blinked and shook her head. "I… I never really thought about it, I guess. I didn't think-"

"No one did," Ginny bit out. The two were silent for a moment. Finally, Ginny let out a breath. "It's… no one was supposed to know, Hermione. It's all right. Anyway, after that… incident… I saw Dumbledore quite a bit. He'd visit the Burrow, that summer. And then the next school year, when Professor Lupin came, I saw him. Talked to him weekly." Ginny averted her eyes again. "I… I still do talk to him. Sometimes. When I need to. He's… Remus is very open. And he knows a lot about it – the Dark Arts, the effects."

"Like a counselor…" Hermione murmured. Ginny looked at her oddly and Hermione shook her head. "Muggle thing, sorry. Just someone to talk things over with, that type of thing."

"Oh. Well, anyway, the little snippets I got from Tom's images and feelings, I asked Remus about them. Some of it he couldn't – or _wouldn't _– tell me, but other stuff… like the Blood Loyalty…" Her voice trailed off. 

Hermione cleared her throat. "What… what did he say about it, Ginny?"

"It's a way of pledging loyalty, a binding pledge. I think the penalties are… severe. The person pledging promises not to draw the other's blood or kill them – those are the two cuts. I guess with _Avada Kedavra_ just pledging not to draw blood isn't quite enough." It was chilling how matter-of-fact the young witch sounded as she described the dark blood ritual.

"Right. That… that makes sense." Hermione's mind raced, considering the implications. No wonder the Dark Lord allowed his Death Eaters to remain armed in his presence… that had always seemed rather risky of him. And Severus did mention that the new recruits had to surrender their wands before approaching the Dark Lord. Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat, thinking of Adrian Pucey. 

"Remus didn't tell me much about the Call of the Blood. Everything I know - everything I feel - about that came from… from Tom. I remember his… satisfaction… when he saw blood, touched it… made me touch it." Ginny's eyes were downcast. "Damn him. I wish Remus would tell me more, but he won't."

"Remus probably doesn't know much," Hermione said hollowly. Ginny looked at her oddly.

"Hermione – what do you know? How much do you know?"

"Too much." Hermione warred with herself. It would be a relief, to tell someone else… someone who could possibly understand, who could give her some perspective on the situation, without guilty feelings overtaking her. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, on the brink of confiding in her friend, when Ginny put a hand over hers. 

"Hermione. I won't judge you. You should know that."

Hermione stared into her friend's eyes and saw the truth in them. With a jolt, she realized she _literally_ saw the truth in them… Severus had mentioned that with their intense training, she may be able to perform Legilimency – at least in a rudimentary manner – without a lot of practice. Mesmerized by the clear blue stare and her own revelation, Hermione began to talk.

Her voice failed her on occasion, and she purposefully did not explain the Call in detail, but the vast relief she felt as the words tumbled out of her mouth was invigorating. Ginny listened quietly, occasionally squeezing her hand when her voice caught, and when she was done Ginny sat back and stared at her in silence for long moments with a compassionate expression.

"I had wondered… Hermione, I'm so sorry all this happened. I'm glad… so glad, that Snape stopped you that night. Gods, when I think of what could have happened…"

"I'm glad you're not… condemning me-" 

Ginny shook her head emphatically. "How could I? The only reason I wasn't tempted to do the same is what I learned from Tom… the dangers… oh, Hermione." 

Hermione smiled slightly. "I'm fine. I still feel it sometimes, the lure, but it's not… it's not overwhelming." Ginny nodded and with one last squeeze, released her hand.

"I wondered why the original plan for you was changed."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "How do you know-"

Ginny grinned. "Extendable ears… Mum thinks when Fred and George aren't around she doesn't have to ward against eavesdroppers as carefully." Hermione chuckled briefly and Ginny smiled. A moment later, she continued in a serious tone, "I heard them talking, the night after… after the funeral. Dumbledore, Mum and Dad, Snape. The older boys were out, but I was up in my room… they must have thought I was asleep. I heard them talking about Beauxbatons and it sounded like a done deal."

"Oh." Hermione sat back. "It was, I think, from what Severus told me. But then… well. Severus knew, somehow… he won't tell me, but he knew that I was reading and studying. He must have seen me leave, or maybe they had set the wards to sense me leaving the castle… I was on my way to-" Hermione stopped short, unsure if Ginny knew about Viktor. Deciding to keep that bit of information private, she smoothly continued, "-to learn more. Hogwarts doesn't have any of the truly dark books in the library."

Ginny gave her a knowing look, appearing perfectly aware that she had changed what she was about to say. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when the redhead politely did not question her further. 

In tacit agreement, they steered the conversation to lighter subjects until it was time to meet Harry for the walk back to Hogwarts.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

"But… could the Dark Lord also access her memories, now? They had a link-"

Severus shook his head and she frowned in response. He had not been in their chambers when she returned, giving her ample time to think over the situation with Ginny. When he returned she had immediately told him of their conversation – most of it, at least. 

"It's times like these I recall – with clarity – that you are a Muggleborn, Hermione." He took a breath and she waited impatiently. "The Dark Lord was never linked to Miss Weasley. Tom Riddle, aged seventeen, was. Or a reflection of him, rather. A copy."

"So… the Dark Lord couldn't sense what was happening in the diary?" Hermione found that difficult to believe.

"The diary… he left many such items. I am in possession of one, in fact – it is in my vault. And well-protected. The diaries act… similar to a portrait. A snapshot of time only, containing the emotions and knowledge of the person at that point in time. The image, the reflection, does not grow, nor does it have a link to the living self." Pausing a moment, he drew close to the fireplace and flicked his wand. Immediately, the logs burst into flame. "The Dark Lord has no more idea of what occurred through that diary than Dumbledore has of what occurs through all of those Chocolate Frog cards that bear his image."

"Oh." Hermione bit her lip, not missing his frown when she did so. He had mentioned, once, that it reminded him of her youth. "That makes sense." 

Severus sat beside her and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. "Although… her insight into what _was _Tom Riddle could be useful. I will speak with Dumbledore."

Hermione took a breath, her eyes drawn to where the top of the Blood Rites scar peeked from the opening in his shirt. "Severus… she knows about the Call." Beside her, he stiffened. "In general terms. Remus wasn't able to tell her much about it."

"He would not be able to… it is not common knowledge, outside those who follow it. The details, at least. I would be most surprised indeed if he knew more than the fact that it exists and is a danger." Hermione heard the sneer in his voice and held back a sigh.

"She has images, feelings, from Tom… she remembers, Severus." Hermione took a breath before continuing. "She remembers more than just that. She said he promised himself, even then, that anyone who followed him would… would follow the Call, and would pledge a Blood Loyalty to him."

Severus averted his eyes. "Yes."

"She also described a vision, an image, she got from his mind when he thought about the Blood Loyalty ritual. Two parallel scars. On a person's right side." Severus made no motion to speak and remained frozen in place, his eyes staring into the fire. A reflection of the flames flickered in his eyes, and she allowed herself to be lulled by the hypnotic dancing. In a low, careful voice, she asked, "Whose loyalty did you pledge, Severus?"

He pursed his lips, eyebrows coming down in a scowl as he turned his head to glare at her. "What do you mean?" The words were almost a hiss. 

"She could have been describing your side, Severus. Except you have four scars, not two. I assume two of them were for the pledge to Vo- the Dark Lord."

He nodded brusquely. "Yes."

"Who did you pledge Blood Loyalty to, Severus? Aside from the Dark Lord?"

"Professor Dumbledore. When I came to him, after my father's… death."

Hermione stared at him, shocked. "He… he asked you to perform a Dark Arts blood ritu-"

Severus sneered. "Of course not. Gryffindor that he is, he trusted me. But I felt the need to prove my loyalty to him."

"Oh." Hermione paused a moment, wrestling with herself, before she began, "How-" 

She was surprised when he cut her off, his tones rich and full.

"_Upon pain of blood, and retribution of the Call, your blood will not be spilt by my hand, nor your death dealt by my hand." _He fixed his eyes on hers. "That is the pledge. And it is sealed by blood." 

Hermione felt her heart freeze in her chest. "What… what is the pain of blood? The… the retribution of the Call?" He did not answer. "Severus?" She realized that her voice had gone slightly shrill, but she couldn't help it. 

Moody…

_He believes I am the one to perform the Blood Rites, however, as I am the one who is already stained._

She had the urge to reach out and shake him, her heart racing. She raised a hand to touch his shoulder when he spoke, his voice blank. "Like calls to like. What blood you draw, or what death you deal, will be brought upon you in kind."

She jumped up from the couch, staring at him in horror. "But… then… the Blood Rites… the prophecy… Moody…" Shaking her head, she gasped out, "You can't! You can't be the one to do it!"

"I may not have a choice." He met her gaze fully, his eyes cold.

"Severus, no!"

"Hermione." There was a note of hard finality in his voice. "I. Will. Do. What. I. Must." 

She had never heard his voice sound so unyielding. She knew better than to pursue it further, but she felt like her heart had turned to ice in her chest. Tears pricked her eyes and she turned her head quickly so he wouldn't see them. 

_Oh, Gods… Moody has to be the one to perform the Rites… he _has_ to do it!_

Or… 

With a sudden resolve, she blinked back her tears and looked at Severus. He returned her gaze evenly, his grim expression softening slightly as he reached out to pull her into his lap. She clutched at him frantically, making a silent vow even as her lips found his. 

_If Moody won't do it… then someone _else_ will. And it _won't_ be Severus._

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples as she sat in their chambers after classes the following Friday. She was exhausted. The week had started off well – rather relaxed, really. A couple of evenings that week, she had even had time to spend in the Gryffindor Common Room catching up with Neville, Harry, and the others. Seamus still avoided her, but for the most part everyone was rather pleasant. Lavender had told her in confidence that Seamus seemed to think Hermione was telling Severus about the goings-on in Gryffindor tower, to which Hermione had laughed loudly. As if Severus cared about which Gryffindors were snogging, or slagging off on their studies. 

But the week had gone downhill from there. Loads of papers to mark and the weather had been frightful, which made the younger students in particular rowdier as they were unable to go outside to blow off steam. That afternoon she had helped Minerva with the first year and second year Slytherins, back to back, and to say she was irritated would be a dramatic understatement. At least she had switched the Slytherin colors off of their bed, or she would have been tempted to shred the bed curtains into tiny bits. As it was… she groaned and rubbed her temples harder.

"We _do _have headache potion, you realize. I am, after all, a Potions Master."

Glaring up at her husband, she scowled at him ferociously. "That's enough. That was the third sneering comment you've made since I got home. You know what – forget what I said about knowing about your Act, all right? Let's pretend I never said it, and you put the Act back on and pretend to be nice for a while."

He raised an eyebrow at her and snorted. "I must admit I was rather enjoying the reprieve from… politeness."

"Well, too bad." She continued to scowl in his direction, but it was becoming difficult to maintain the expression in the face of his slight smirk. 

"And to think… I do recall, rather clearly, you saying that you preferred the way I _really _am. That you wanted… all of me, I believe you said." His smirk grew. "Do correct me if I'm wrong, my dear."

"That's right. All of you. _Including _your acting skills. Especially when I've had this kind of day, dealing with _your _Slytherins for the last two classes!" At this, he laughed out loud… and she could no longer hold her scowl, her face melting into a half-smile that she was determined to keep from growing into a full smile. 

"I quite understand, Hermione. And I agree – I had to grant one of my _darling_ second years an evening with me tonight. And a Gryffindor, of course."

Curious, she raised her eyebrows. "You usually don't do Friday evening detentions – what was the problem? What did the little Slytherin monster do?"

"Tsk, tsk. Such bias, Mrs. Snape?" 

She snorted aloud at that. "That's pretty rich, coming from you."

He stood from his desk and crossed to where she was sitting, glancing at her in amusement as he settled beside her. "The two got into an altercation after Potions class. Regrettably, I missed the beginning of the incident, and so, with only one House's word against the other, I was forced to give them both detention." The smug smirk he was attempting to hide – rather unsuccessfully - told her that he knew full well just who the aggressor had been. 

Some things never changed.

For some reason, she couldn't help but smile at the thought. Her smile grew wider as she imagined Harry's reaction to the idea that she was beginning to find Severus' bias against Gryffindors to be… _endearing_. She couldn't explain it, other than that it was just so… so _Severus._

When she realized that she was not only smiling, but that her irritated mood had vanished, she tilted her head and regarded her husband thoughtfully. It appeared he was just as good at bringing her out of a mood as she was at bringing _him _out of a mood. "Severus, I…" she paused, nervous about saying the words that had come so readily the other night, the night he had marked her. Before she could continue, he pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his. 

The kiss started out light, almost teasing, but quickly grew into more… she wasn't even conscious of moving closer to him until she realized she was straddling his lap, her body pressing against his, their kisses growing more heated. Her skin tingled as he dragged his hands along her back, reaching down to grasp her hips tightly… and then she felt him pause and groan against her neck, his hands slackening their grip as he pulled back.

"I am amazed, at times... how enticing you are to me… I have never-" He stopped for a moment and then sighed. "This is… not what I expected."

"It's not what I expected, either." Her eyes drifted shut as he touched her cheek lightly. 

His voice held a regretful tone as he said, "As enjoyable as our current seating arrangement is, I believe we must venture to the Great Hall for dinner shortly."

Hermione opened her eyes. "Right. And you have detention." With a wicked smile, she leaned in for one last kiss. "How late will you be?"

"Mmm. It may very well be the shortest detention the Potions Master has ever given."

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Hermione picked at her dessert, her eyes wandering the Great Hall. Beside her, Sinistra's two apprentices were once again engaged in a heated debate over which star positions they should pay most attention to that night. She had tuned them out when they began the conversation. As her eyes passed over the Slytherin table, she saw Draco staring at her with a strangely wistful expression. Their eyes locked for a moment and his sharp face regained its customary sour look before he turned away. 

Unsettled, she glanced at Severus. He was also scanning the room, his face far more sour than Draco's had been as his eyes passed over the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. She hid a smile – he did hate detentions, particularly when they interfered with more… entertaining… pursuits. Finally his gaze crossed over to her and he quirked an eyebrow slightly. She smiled as he rose in full Potions Master persona, his robes flapping behind him as he strode from the Hall. 

She set her fork down and sighed. She may as well head back to their chambers… she really ought to get some of that headache potion and wait for Severus to return. She was just about to rise when a plain brown owl fluttered into the Great Hall and landed in front of her. 

"Good timing," she remarked, untying the letter and offering him a bit of her dessert. Glancing at the envelope quickly, she noted the heavy parchment and bold handwriting. _Viktor. _Tucking it into her robes to open later, she bid her table companions a good evening and left the Great Hall. 

After taking the headache potion, she made some tea to wash the bitter taste from her mouth and sank into her favorite armchair with a relieved sigh. As she sat, something rustled in her robes and she remembered the envelope. 

She pulled it from her pocket and stopped, curious. At first glance it had appeared to bear Viktor's handwriting, but upon closer inspection… frowning slightly, she tore it open and pulled the letter out. It was short, and disturbingly to the point.

~

_I am returning this – I believe it was meant to be yours. Did you know your name was the last thing that crossed his lips? Such a tragic end… such an unnecessary sacrifice. _

_There is also something of one of the attackers here. Perhaps your trust is misplaced, Mrs. Snape. There are others who are willing to help, if you wish to seek revenge._

~

There was no signature. She stood, her hands shaking, and she dropped the envelope. It fell to the carpet more heavily than it should have and, swallowing hard, she cast some revealing charms before leaning over to pick it up. Pulling her courage around her, she opened the envelope wide, pulling out the object within.

_Oh, Gods… no…_

Another ring.

A betrothal ring. 

And she knew. She _knew_ it wasn't a trick… she could feel Ron's presence… fleeting, perhaps… but _there_. 

_"…if I had just gone with him… but I thought he ought to pick out your ring himself-"_

"A ring? He… that's why he went into Hogsmeade? Alone? I told him not to… I didn't want…"

And… Gods… blood. Dried blood. Not just a small stain, like on her mother's ring… but practically covering it like dark brown paint. So much… had it been in his pocket when they found him, when they tortured him to death? Or was he holding it in his hand when they first attacked, did he drop it as he fought desperately for his life against… against how many? _There is also something of one of the attackers here. _

Blinking the tears from her eyes, she lifted the ring closer. Wound around it, appearing to be stuck to the dried blood, was a long black hair. She knew whose head it belonged to. 

And she knew. She _knew _this _was _a trick – a last-ditch effort by the bastards to make her distrust her husband, her bond-mate. 

The man she loved.

How did they get his hair? Calm now, a strange numbness overcoming her, she looked closer at the ring and confirmed her suspicions. The hair wasn't actually stuck to the dried blood itself, but she had to give the Malfoys credit: the weak sticking charm that had been applied would have fooled most people. Particularly an overwrought person, who may take one look at the ring and cast it from them, running from the room… 

But she wasn't going to run. Not now.

They will pay. I will make them pay. 

Her fingers curled around the ring, forming a fist. How many times would she accept their taunts, their well-aimed attacks? 

You have the means of breaking the wards. 

Yes, she did. And she could use them. 

A strange miasma formed in front of her eyes and she suddenly found herself in the bedchamber, wrenching open her trunk and pulling out the parchment Viktor had sent her so many weeks before… the parchment with the ward-breaking spells on it. 

A faint voice echoed in the back of her mind…

Each step seems but a small one.

…but she paid it no heed as a second will, a second energy, rose up and brutally pushed the thought to the side. She stood, feeling as if another force was moving her limbs, and ran to where Severus had placed the Dark Arts books. Her eyes narrowed, fury building, she began to hurl spells from the parchment at the wards. It only took a few incantations before the wards fell. She grabbed the first book she recognized, the first book Viktor had ever sent her, and flipped through it quickly, instinctively passing by the more innocuous spells in the early stages of the book and heading straight to the back pages. 

They will pay. I will make them pay.

She would find a curse… a curse to fit a Malfoy… and with a simple _Obliviate_ afterwards, Draco would never know who had attacked him… but she would. Oh, yes, she would know. It was like an itch, begging to be scratched, and as she continued to read her mind began to whirl, she felt the lure grow stronger even as she devoured the words. 

She grabbed her wand, hand once again moving of its own volition. It was within her power, she _knew _it, she could _feel _it… a red haze formed at the edges of her vision as her breath hitched in her chest, the fury building to extreme amounts. She moved her wand, practicing the precise motions before uttering the incantation… her lips moved silently… the rage grew… the red… the fear… the haze… too much… 

…and her stomach twisted, her wand falling to the floor with a clatter. She bent over double, stumbling and crawling to the bathroom where she began to retch uncontrollably, sweat and tears mixing together to form a glistening mask on her face.

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Severus was peering into a newly cleaned cauldron, a sneer carefully plastered on his face for the benefit of the two students in front of him, when he felt it. When he felt the heat of the mark.

Fear… anger… pain…

Too much. And something else, something unidentifiable… 

"Get out," he hissed. The two students stared at him in surprise. "Detention is over. Get out. Now!" he thundered. 

They ran.

As soon as they disappeared, he followed the pull of the blood bond back to their chambers. He passed through the library and study, quickly taking in the Dark Arts book and her wand lying on the floor. He also caught sight of a parchment but continued on… _Hermione. _

He found his wife huddled on the bathroom floor. She was trembling, sweat soaking her skin, and he saw evidence of her earlier illness as he moved closer. With a flick of his wand he cast a cleaning spell and knelt down, a dark suspicion growing in his mind, chilling him. 

"_Accio _yellow bottle!" He held his hand up and caught the small bottle of nausea relief potion, unstoppering it and supporting her head as he administered the standard dosage. 

It would work instantaneously, unless…

Breaking his hold with a surprising show of strength, she leaned forward and retched again. How could it be? 

The illness…

She had only read a few sentences – it wasn't possible! How could she be so susceptible? He had seen into her mind, he _knew_ she had not lied about how much she had read in the Book of the Blood. 

But how, then, was the illness affecting her? 

"The small amount you read should not have brought on this response, Hermione."

"I didn't lie to you!" Her voice was weak, but even so he could hear the venom in her tone. 

"I know that!" he snapped. In a more moderate tone, he said, "I saw, remember?"

"I think… I'm already feeling better. It's passing… maybe it was just the headache potion." She sat up shakily and he raised an eyebrow. He well remembered his own illness – he had been unable to move from his bed for days. Something wasn't right… there was something he was missing. Perhaps he was wrong, perhaps it wasn't the Call illness. 

Severus shook his head. No. He felt it, the affinity… it was strong, stronger than normal. He knew… deep in his bones, he knew. 

"I saw the book, Hermione. I saw your wand. What happened? Why did you break my wards?" As he spoke, he knew his voice was growing more agitated. 

"The ring." Her voice was strangely flat. 

"Ring?"

"Ron's ring… my ring… he got it for me… it had – here. It's here. Malfoy sent it – after you left. An owl. A letter." She opened her left fist slowly and he saw the ring. Some of the dried blood had mixed with the sweat of her palm, staining her skin a dark red. A sense of foreboding filled him as he gently reached out to take it from her. 

The moment he touched it a hiss escaped from his mouth. With narrowed eyes he studied it. There was something… some strange sensation tickling at the back of his mind… one that seemed quite familiar… familiar. The blood… _he had smelled this blood before_. Abruptly he handed the ring back to her and rose, striding towards the office where he kept the most dangerous volumes. Where he kept the Book of the Blood. 

"Stay in the study," he ordered fiercely when he saw Hermione preparing to follow him into the small office. 

"No. What-"

"Don't make me put you in a body bind, Hermione. I will be return in a moment," he snapped, his long strides bringing him to his destination quickly. He slammed the door behind him and unwarded the Book of the Blood. When he touched it… yes. The same. The same ebb and flow, the same essence… with a slight difference… 

Scribe's blood mixed with a victim's blood…

Viktor was the scribe.

Mr. Weasley was the victim.

The young man's blood – the lover, the man who had taken her virgin's blood… mixed with blood of another man – the friend, the man who had created this book… who had acted as scribe… who had make the ink in the ancient tradition, using the old incantations… 

Merlin.

What were the effects? Blood of lover mixed with blood of friend, the Call bound to the ink using the darkest of magics… did her connection to the two men make it easier for the Call to seep into her? His blood ran cold. Could it have _already taken hold?_

It would explain much.

Steeling himself, he knew he had to be sure about the identity of the blood – he would need incontrovertible evidence to show Dumbledore. Hefting the book in his hands, he reluctantly turned and re-entered the study. Hermione stared at him in shock, her haunted eyes flicking down to the book before returning to his face. He could see her hands begin to tremble when the book came near and he growled in frustration. _A toehold… _

Ignoring her questions, he lay the book on his desk and retrieved the ring. Placing it on top of the dark red cover, he pulled out his wand and in a solemn voice cast a specialized revealing charm. 

Both the book and the ring glowed a pure red. 

It was confirmed. 

He sat heavily in the chair, staring unseeing at the ring. The implications… 

"What is it?" Her voice shook faintly. His gaze did not move from the book. 

"Is that the first time you've gotten ill while reading?"

"What? Yes, Severus – I told you. I haven't... I haven't been doing much reading in any of the books. Something… something guided me tonight…"

His eyes shot up at that. She was standing beside him, staring down at the ring. "What is it, Severus? Talk to me…Why is Ron's ring… blood…"

He saw when the realization hit, and jumped up to support her when she stepped back, face filled with horror. 

He wrapped his arms around her as her shaking knees began to give way. He held her close, lending his strength… he whispered in her ear, "That's why you feel it so strongly, even with just those few sentences you read."

She pulled back and stared at him. "I… do you think… I'm…"

"You are linked to both scribe and victim… Friend of one, lover of the other." He saw her mouth open to protest the terminology but he cut her off before she could begin. "I know what you are about to say – but the Call cares little for the labels you place on relationships. Mr. Weasley took your virgin's blood. You are bound to him by blood." 

"Like… like I'm bound to you?"

He shook his head. "Not so strongly as that, Hermione. But… bound, nonetheless. It explains the wrongness you felt." 

"Does… does the Call already… is it… it's too late? I'm…"

"No! No… I told you, an Unforgivable or Blood Rites are the final step in the Call linkage. But… it has a toehold, I believe. The lure you feel, your need for revenge…" 

"They will pay. I will make them pay." It was a whisper, barely audible as she turned her head away from him. 

He froze. "What did you say?" She turned back to face him, and he gazed into her eyes intently. They looked hollow… red-rimmed… haunted…

"It keeps going through my head, ever since I saw Ron… no, that's not right. Ever since I opened the book… _that_ book… Oh, Gods…"

Severus closed his eyes for a moment. _The Call… _he could well remember his own thoughts, as he stood over his father's near-lifeless body… _I want to make him pay._ This explained much. A toehold… 

Like calls to like.

He didn't realize he had said the words aloud until he heard Hermione's startled gasp. He caught her eye and nodded slowly. "The Call… since that morning when you first touched my scar, it demanded that I bind you to me… it did not subside until I marked you. I didn't understand why, at first… but now…" He hesitated until he saw the widening of her eyes. Nodding slightly, he continued, "The Call in my blood must have sensed yours, particularly when you touched the scar. And it wanted you… it wanted you bound to another of the Call…"

"But you never told me – that's why you grabbed my wrist like that. How often did it… rise?"

He regarded her a moment before answering. "Every time you touched it. And then, the night… the night I marked you, it was overwhelming. The demand… I couldn't resist it. It wanted you bound to me."

"But why?"

"I am not sure, precisely… but I think… if it could bind you to another of the Call, it is more likely that you will not back away… more likely that the thread will not unravel." Severus sighed and ran a hand through his hair, staring into the fire. When he next spoke, his voice sounded distant even to his own ears. "It is mindless, but with a will to survive, to propagate. That will is strong." 

"So… it's in me?" To her credit, her voice wavered only slightly. 

"Yes. But just a toehold, yet. You would have definitely noticed, otherwise… the emotional highs you experience would have demanded release long before now." Turning quickly he pinned her with his eyes. "Hermione. You _must _avoid learning any more. It is no longer safe for you, even the more innocuous volumes will allow the bridge to grow, will allow more of the Call to enter. That is – I think - why you felt the illness this evening. It was lessened, perhaps, because of the connection you bear to scribe and victim."  

She looked mutinous, but he held her gaze evenly, without faltering, until she agreed. She moved to stand next to him, crossing her arms and staring into the fire, wavering only slightly on her feet. He watched her face, the flickering glow from the flames painting it in hues of orange and yellow… with the rare glow of red framing her cheeks. 

Like blood. 

            *                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

Severus coaxed her into bed after waving aside her apologies for hiding the parchment with the ward-breaking incantations from him. 

"The Call is strong… I well know it, Hermione. It was not your failing – you have shown more strength of will than I would have expected, particularly as you did not realize what was occurring. I should have considered-" He stopped and shook his head decisively, refusing to discuss it further until after she had slept. She agreed, too shaky from the illness and worn from the emotional evening to summon the strength to argue. 

She curled next to him gratefully and closed her eyes, relaxing as he ran a soothing hand through her hair.  

Sleep. Yes. Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be soon enough to discuss it, to ask questions… to find out what I can… so tired…

She drifted into sleep.

Feverish dreams rocked her mind, not frightening, not memories, but something… a nervousness, an anxiety, her mind knew something that she did not… her mind wanted her to know something… 

A memory surfaced in her slumbering mind. A young woman's voice, guttural, reciting a prophecy…

The key to ensure light over shadows prevail

Is in the blood of the friend, bound in red 

She sat up with a gasp, heart pounding. 

Blood of the friend.

Bound in red.

Instantly, Severus was next to her, holding her tightly. "What is it, Hermione?" 

"Blood of the friend… Blood of the friend, bound in red! The Book of the Blood, it's red – a red binding – Ron's blood… Ron is the friend, not me! The key is in that book!"

___________________________________________________________

A/N: I just can't get away from these long chapters. Well, I hope this chapter helps make up for the evil cliffie in the last chapter… I know of at least two people who guessed the prophecy "bound in red" thing. And, I am going to keep score again this time, like I did in Scars. So, send your guesses and theories (or put them in a review – hint, hint ;) ). Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing – I'm very flattered that so many people appear to be enjoying it!!

Lewen Stonewar – Actually, I see the relationship as an integral part of the plot in this fic. I'm a bit confused, I'll admit, by your comments that movement of plot seemed to fall by the wayside in favor of sex, as the last chapter had no sex at all. Chapter 17's sex was a very important part of the plot, as it showed their blood bonding (the marking) and the force of the Call. In Chapter 18, there was a DE meeting where Severus was moved up in the ranks thanks to the fake conversation of Harry and Hermione's earlier in the chapter and where the Dark Lord demands that Hermione be brought before him… information about the blood binding was delivered… another journal entry was made that served to feed false information to the evildoers who are reading it… and then there was Ginny's revelation at the end. I'm honestly confused as to what you mean by plot movement, as all of these things are definite movement of the plot. There are also other little things that were peppered throughout that will prove significant. If you could clarify, that would be great – is the pacing off, perhaps? Thanks for taking the time to review!

Mistress Nymphadora – Thank you for reviewing. Hope this chapter clears up the questions regarding Ginny. The reason for no symbol in the middle will be explained, never fear ;). And yes, I will be doing the house points thing again – I had fun with it, too!

Leyna Rountree – Thank you for your comments, yes, many threads were planted last chapter for the future chapters. I'm glad you noticed! 

Sylvan Snape – Thank you – I'm working very hard on the characterization so your comments are definitely nice to hear. Ollivander has always seemed a bit creepy to me in the books, so I wanted to use him in a fanfic in a neutral-type of role.

Ironmayden – Thanks for reviewing – and just an FYI - the last chapter was 14 pages in Word – most fanfic chapters are 3 – 5 pages long… I guess that means the pacing is smooth if it seemed short to you ;). I'm updating weekly, also. Look for it late Tuesday, early Wednesday unless something horrible in real life occurs (like my kidney infection a few weeks back). 

Liraniel – Thank you for the review! I'm almost above it, but the scenes in this chapter really had to be together for the flow to be correct, so I'm only slightly repentant ;). 

CaretoDream, PhoenixFeather7, Daintress, Makalani Astral, Jinxdncursed, Tasya, Lover5, Lanhar, Jean Jelly Bean, ankle – Thank you for reviewing!!!


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. **The Call of the Blood and the concepts associated with it are my creations – please email me if you wish to use them or a derivative of them in a story. Or, at the very least, place an acknowledgement in the author's notes of your own story if the concept inspired you. **

Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 20

~~~~~~~~

Severus tried to get his sleep-fogged mind to follow his wife's near-hysterical exclamations. Even as his arms tightened around her, her frantic words echoed in his head: _"Blood of the friend… Blood of the friend, bound in red! The Book of the Blood, it's red – a red binding – Ron's blood… Ron is the friend, not me! The key is in that book!"_

She turned her head to face him and their eyes locked, noses inches from each other. He realized belatedly that he was holding his breath and he let it out hurriedly, pulling her against his chest. 

_Dear Merlin._

She was right. They had been looking at the prophecy incorrectly the entire time… assuming it was Hermione that it referred to. But after what they learned tonight… of course. It was the Book of the Blood, containing Mr. Weasley's blood… the key was in the book, not in the blood of his wife. He felt a wave of relief rush through him and his arms loosened slightly, the intensity of his grip shifting from alarm to comfort. Relief… it would not fall on Hermione's shoulders, then, what had to be done. He had been on edge since learning of the Call's hold on her – tenuous though it might be. With her part of the prophecy now negated, he could argue more eloquently for her to stay far from the field of battle. 

"I believe you're right, Hermione," he said softly, in the velvety tones that helped to calm her. "The key must appear in the Book of the Blood." He felt her burrow closer to him, her face pressing against his chest, and felt the hot wetness of her tears. "It will be well, Hermione. It will be well." The familiar words caused a memory to surface in his mind – himself, sitting in his office that fateful evening so many weeks ago, facing her red-rimmed eyes across his desk… his irritation at her ignorance… his reluctant admiration of her courage… his desperate attempt to sway her from the path she had chosen in her naivety. 

Thankfully, she had listened, though it had been touch and go for a time. The alternative… he shook his head slightly, his throat swallowing convulsively as he recalled what he had been ordered to do, that night that he followed her from Hogwarts. The night she had sat in his office, confessing with blunt words her purpose in leaving. To learn the Dark Arts… to attack those who were masters of the Art… 

…to gain her revenge. 

Her words from that evening echoed in his ears… _The only way to fight fire is with fire._ His arms, still wrapped around her, trembled as he recalled his response to that statement.

_That is perhaps the most asinine thing you've said here this evening, Miss Granger._

And now he knew… he had been mistaken. The greatest Dark power of their time… the Dark Lord… and the key to defeating him lay in the darkest of the Dark Arts books… the Book of the Blood. Written using the blood of a friend… and bound in deep red. 

It appeared that she had been correct, after all. The only way to fight this fire would be with fire.

They both slept fitfully, and rose before the sun began to peek over the horizon. Severus announced his plan to see Dumbledore as early as possible and Hermione had no objections. 

Severus stared at her across the table – she was picking at the breakfast they had ordered from the kitchens, her eyes shadowed. Whether it was a result of the aftereffects of the Call illness or the revelation of the Book's origins from the evening before, he did not know.

"So Viktor was there. When Ron was killed." Her voice broke slightly and she paused a moment before continuing. "He's… he's definitely in league with the Malfoys, isn't he? And has been?" 

Severus put down his teacup, scowling. "So it appears. I do not know if he's pursuing his own agenda or following orders… I predict a little of both." 

"Right." Hermione was silent once more, absently winding a few strands of hair around her fingers. Suddenly, she froze and stared down at her fingers, wrapped in her hair. "Oh, Gods… I forgot… how could I have…" She looked up at him in alarm. "Severus – your hair…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Your hair – they tried… wait-" Standing, she raced out of the room and returned a moment later, a parchment in her hand. She handed him the letter and watched his face as he read. "Your hair was stuck to the ring. With a sticking charm. I… I _knew _it was yours, somehow…"

He body went still as his mind raced. He had no doubts that Hermione's assumption as to the identity of the hair was valid – one of the side effects of the blood bonding. But how… he was always very careful… How could Lucius, in particular, have-?

An image sprang to his mind… Adrian Pucey, clutching at Severus… the boy's blood soaking into his robes, hands grasping, knocking aside the mask, pulling his hair free of the hood with frantic hands…

…and then Lucius, dragging the boy's body to Nagini… 

"Lucius took it from Pucey's hand, no doubt."

Hermione's mouth formed an O in understanding. "Then…"

"Yes. Lucius may use it for Polyjuice…. I'm certain that he didn't send you the only hair." Severus frowned, digesting this new information. 

Hermione nodded. "I… I'm not sure how, but I just _knew _that it was yours_._"

"The blood bond, most likely," Severus replied absently, inspecting the parchment with a detailed eye. "This appears to be in Lucius' hand, though it could be Draco's. They are rather similar."

"In more ways than one," Hermione said sourly. Severus flicked his eyes up to look at her and nodded gravely as he put the parchment down on the table.

"The hair concerns me a great deal, Hermione. I believe that you would be able to tell if it were truly me through the blood bond, but…" Severus frowned, thinking. Polyjuice was the obvious danger, and he said so aloud.

Hermione shrugged. "Well, the easiest thing to do would be to just establish a code word. If I'm suspicious, I'll ask you for it." Severus stared at her in confusion and she sighed. "I guess it's just a Muggle thing. It's to keep kids from being kidnapped – the parents set up a codeword with them so if someone they don't know comes up claiming to be sent by their parents, they can be sure it's really true."

Severus thought for a moment. The idea had merit… they could choose something that no one would guess... that no Death Eater would guess. Perhaps some Muggle phrase. And if the imposter did not have the codeword, he trusted that Hermione's emotions would flare enough to alert him to the danger. "Intriguing… it could work."

"Right. How about Eastenders?"

"Pardon?"

Hermione laughed. "It's a Muggle show… television show. It's an evening soap-" She chuckled again at his expression and shook her head. "Never mind. You have no idea what I'm talking about."

"For which I'm eternally grateful," he said with a slight sneer. He had seen televisions occasionally during his forays into Muggle London, but the appeal was lost on him. It was rather like a wizarding painting, but the characters couldn't speak with you. What was the point?

The laugh lines around her eyes disappeared as she cleared her throat and looked down at her plate. "Severus… if we were wrong about that part of the prophecy, what-"

He held a hand up, stopping her. "Wait… we must go speak with Dumbledore. It's pointless to go over this twice, Hermione." He stared at her sternly – she could drive any topic into the ground, and he wasn't in the mood to go over it any more than he had to that morning. Doubtless there would be a partial Order meeting called to discuss this new development with the Book of the Blood. 

And doubtless there would be an even smaller meeting called to discuss the implications of Hermione's Call. A meeting of three. He had tried to think of a way to avoid sharing the information with Dumbledore, but it would be too dangerous to keep that knowledge from the Headmaster. If something should happen to Severus… Hermione would have to be watched – and guided - carefully. 

Her voice penetrated his thoughts. "All right." She sounded a bit petulant, but at least she agreed.

Hermione's Call. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He remembered all too well her reaction the week before when she had found out about the Blood Loyalty pledge, and he had a sinking feeling that he knew what she intended if Moody refused to perform the Blood Rites. Gryffindors. It wasn't even clear that that would definitely be needed… prophecies could be taken to mean anything, in truth… though he had no idea what other meaning that could possibly have. _Blood Rites will conquer the shadow…_

"Pointless, remember, Severus?" Hermione said gently and he shot her a quelling glance. She smirked at him and he scowled. Impertinence. But she did have a point. 

"It is… difficult… to push from my mind."

"I know. I have the same problem." Hermione took a bite of toast and sat back in her chair, watching him thoughtfully as she chewed. There was something else he had to discuss with her – something of grave importance, if she was going to avoid completely succumbing to the Call. 

"Hermione…" He took a deep breath before continuing. "You must _never_ perform an Unforgivable or Blood Rites. I told you - the stronger you are, the greater the lure. The Call is hovering now – waiting… it will not want the thread to unravel. It wants to move in, to become a part of you… it will urge you to thicken the bridging, to complete the linkage. The more you learn, the stronger the urge will become." She had an odd expression on her face.

"The voice…"

Severus was instantly alert. "Voice?"

Hermione stared down at her plate, not meeting his eyes. "Sometimes it's memories, memories of things I've said… sometimes it's something else. Like what I told you last night – I'll hear that sometimes. _They will pay. I will make them pay._" He felt the fine hairs at the base of his scalp stand on end at the cool way she spoke the words. "And then other times I hear your voice… it grounds me."

He frowned in confusion. "My voice?" 

"Yes. _Each step seems but a small one_. It… helps me resist the urge…. But it gets stronger sometimes. The urge. I- I don't know if I can always hold it back. It's rare, I don't feel it all the time… but last night-" She stopped and turned her head away.

"It has only a toehold for now, Hermione. If it gains complete control… holding it back is exponentially harder. Now, you only feel it rarely. If you complete the Blood Rites, or cast Avada… it will settle into your nature fully." 

"Do-" She raised her eyes to look at him. "Do you feel it, all the time then? The urge?"

He nodded sharply, one long finger tracing the edge of the teacup in front of him. "Yes. At times it is stronger than other times, but it is always there. Like a presence, in my blood, in my mind. Wanting to be satiated. As I told you, there are things that can be done to keep it… dormant. But it never goes away. It's the ebb and flow of the tide…" 

"I don't feel it at all, usually…"

"That would change, should you complete the linking. It is as if you… willingly open yourself to the Call, accept what it has to offer. And then, there is no turning back."  

                  *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

Hermione's breathing was unsteady as she finished telling Dumbledore of her revelation the evening before. _Blood of the friend… _Ron hadn't deserved that. No one did, of course, but least of all _him, _whose only crime was in his choice of friends. And his giving nature… protecting her without thought to his own safety_._ The feel of a hand touching hers startled her and she turned to look at Severus with a grateful smile, knowing how he felt about public displays of affection. 

Across the desk, Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his eyes. Hermione turned back to look at the old wizard, unsettled when she saw how… _tired…_ he looked. It hit her then – Albus had been in a war situation for a great deal of his life. First Grindelwald, then Voldemort… and, on top of that, juggling the responsibilities of Headmaster. 

"Headmaster? Albus?" she said tentatively. Beside her, Severus had averted his eyes, his face a blank mask as he stared out of the window in the Headmaster's office.

Ignoring her, Albus raised his head and fixed his eyes on Severus, who continued to gaze out of the window. "You confirmed… the blood is that of Mr. Weasley?" Hermione swallowed hard.

"Yes." Still, Severus did not turn his head from the window. 

"Blood of the friend…" Dumbledore sighed heavily and stood from the desk, going to a cabinet in the corner and withdrawing what Hermione recognized to be a Pensieve. He carried it back to the desk and sat, placing the Pensieve in front of him. Pulling his wand out, he murmured a ward releasing incantation. She raised her eyebrows at that. 

Glancing up at Hermione's curious face Albus smiled slightly and nodded. "No doubt Harry told you about this Pensieve… I thought it would be best if I began to ward it, as there are now some particularly dangerous memories held within."

"The prophecy," Severus said in a flat voice. Albus nodded, his keen eyes on his Potions Master. 

"We will need to speak with Moody, Severus, about these new… developments."

Hermione frowned and sat forward, watching as Dumbledore drew a silvery strand from his temple with the tip of his wand and placed it into the bowl. "Headmaster… Albus… what about the other Ord-"

"No." 

The word was cold, hard, and clipped. And came from Severus.

Hermione glanced from her husband to the Headmaster, and stared at the old wizard incredulously as he nodded in agreement. "Severus is correct. The rest of the Order cannot know. Well… perhaps I should emphasize that _Harry_ cannot know."

Severus gave a bitter laugh and stood, releasing her hand as he wandered over to the window. Not turning, he commented, "Emphasize it well, Albus. She needs to understand why she cannot share this with her dear friend."

Hermione frowned at the tone in Severus' voice, and her frown deepened when she turned back to the Headmaster. "This must be kept quiet, Hermione. Your Call… the Book of the Blood… to reveal one would inevitably lead to the revelation of the other. Harry cannot know of your brush-"

"It is more than a brush, Albus," Severus interjected fiercely, tossing a glare over his shoulder that would have caused a lesser wizard to quail.

"Yes, Severus. Hermione, Harry cannot know of your… closeness to the Dark Arts. To the Call of the Blood."

Hermione scowled and looked away from both men. "So, once again you decide to hide things from him. When will you see him as an adult? The future of the wizarding world rides on his shoulders, and you keep important information from him."

"It is necessary, child."

Severus' voice cut the Headmaster off. "For now, Hermione. It is necessary." She raised her eyes to look at her husband and frowned. "Trust us on this."

Not taking her eyes off of her husband, she heard a creak as Dumbledore sat back in his chair. "When the Final Battle draws closer, Hermione, he will be told. But, before then… Harry Potter being tempted by the Dark Arts cannot be risked, no matter the cost."  

A sudden intensity Severus' black gaze made Hermione catch her breath. _No matter the cost. _

A half-forgotten conversation rose in her memory, searing her mind. 

_"But, Harry-"_

"Would be far more upset at the thought of his best friend turning against him, embracing the Dark Arts, than at the thought of his best friend becoming yet another victim of the Dark Lord's plots."

No matter the cost. 

_"Your death would be preferable."_

You cannot bring back the dead. 

More memories rose… 

_"That's why it was so essential that I not fall under the Dark, wasn't it? Just in case Harry would be tempted…"_

_"It would be much more difficult for Potter to resist. He is a powerful wizard. More powerful than he realizes…"_

They were right. It couldn't be risked. The realization hit her, weighing her down… her friend… she would have to hide this from her friend…

"Besides his strength being a greater lure for the Call, there is the matter of his link to Voldemort," Dumbledore said. "We do not know what effects that could have over his will, his ability to resist."

"Not to mention what effects the casting of an Unforgivable during that ridiculous Ministry fiasco could have," Severus bit out. 

Dumbledore sent him a reproachful look before turning back to Hermione. "The simple fact is… Harry Potter must not be taken by the Call."

Hermione shook her head. "But he's stubborn… he could resist it, I'm sure… maybe, since we need someone to perform the Blood Rites… why shouldn't he be-"

"No, Hermione. It cannot be risked." Dumbledore's voice sounded hard and final, and Hermione opened her mouth to speak when Dumbledore raised one bony hand. "You think me to be cold, calculating. You are half right. Calculating I am, but cold I am not."

Severus spoke from the window. "It is unlikely that Potter could withstand the lure of the Call, for the reasons we mentioned. He would try to resist and be driven mad in the process." 

Driven mad? _Calculating I am, but cold I am not. _While she didn't trust the Headmaster, she did trust Severus… and even she could see that the dangers were great, if Harry were to fall to the Dark Arts.

Hermione swallowed hard. "So… then I guess it's up to me, you, and Moody to read in the Book of the Blood and find this key-"

"No. Moody and I will do it."

To her surprise, Dumbledore spoke. "Severus, perhaps-"

"No!" His voice was a hiss, full of suppressed fury. Hermione glanced at Dumbledore and saw him shake his head minutely. She understood his message – this was not the time.

Silence fell in the room. Hermione looked down at her hands and sighed, her lips pursed in annoyance. She knew better than to try to broach the subject now, while he had his heels dug in and his determination at its highest level. And not in front of the Headmaster. But it _would _be broached.

_If the thread is no longer crossed, if it is not built upon, it eventually falls apart._

She knew Severus hoped the thread would fall apart, that she would avoid the Call altogether. Whether it was because he was concerned about her, or simply did not want to deal with the effects of it in his wife, she could not say. She hoped it was the former. 

But, knowing what she may have to do… if it came down to the final battle, the final confrontation, and the Blood Rites must be performed… if Moody refused – as he had indicated he would – something would have to be done. She would not lose Severus. Certainly not because he ignored the Blood Loyalty pledge and accepted the retribution of the Call. Not if it was in her power to save him, to keep him from sacrificing himself. She_ would not allow it_. And, thus, she could not allow her connection to the Call, the tenuous bridge that was being built, to collapse. 

The thread would not fall apart. 

She would see to it.

                  *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

Later that evening, Hermione watched as Severus slid into bed. For its rather depressing beginnings, the day had gone quite well. She had left Severus alone to mark papers and joined her friends in the Gryffindor Common Room. Seamus and Lavender had been out for much of the time, to Hermione's relief. Parvati was easier to deflect without Lavender's additional prompting and it gave her more time to talk to Ginny in private. And Harry. 

Harry. Every time she looked at him, she remembered the conversation from that morning in the Headmaster's office, and though he did nothing to make her feel awkward she felt as if her guilt must be written across her face. It also reminded her of the strange feeling she had had ever since recalling those earlier conversations with Severus concerning her study of the Dark Arts… 

As a result, she had returned to their chambers a bit earlier than she had expected and took the time to work on her Transfiguration project. She was now able to transfigure a puff of smoke into a tiny pellet… and if she didn't pack the molecules too tightly she could even make the pellet larger – about the size of a golf ball. Severus had been suitably impressed with her progress, though Transfiguration wasn't a particular skill of his. He was one of the few wizards she had encountered that was more adept at conjuring than Transfiguration.

She remained standing for a moment, staring at him silently as he settled into the bed. Finally, the thought that had been playing in the back of her mind since the meeting with the Headmaster that morning could no longer be repressed. 

_No matter the cost._

She had to know.  

_Your death would be preferable. _

"You lied to me, didn't you? You weren't going to let me go that night." He did not answer her, but his eyes grew shuttered before he looked away. "Severus… you said it yourself – it would be better for me to die than to be used against you. When you told me, that night, that you would let me go if I just listened to you… you wouldn't have, would you?"

"No." Almost inaudible, his voice lacked its normal sarcastic tones.

"What was the plan, then?" She sat on the edge of the bed, watching as he fought with himself over the answer.

"Dumbledore would have attempted to speak with you. And if that was still not successful…" His voice trailed off. 

She nodded, so calm that she surprised even herself. "If I insisted… you were supposed to kill me, weren't you?" Her tone was matter-of-fact.  

He paused for a moment and then turned to face her, regarding her silently until he finally answered, in an indifferent voice, "Yes." 

With that one word, the mark on her thigh burned and a tumult of emotions flooded her… and she knew – it was the blood bond… fear, anger, and _despair_?… roiling, wild… _Gods, how can he show none of this on his face?_ she thought in wonder. She reached out and touched the mark on his shoulder, tracing it lightly with her fingertip, smiling slightly when she felt his emotions settle. 

Nodding, satisfied, she extinguished the candles with a word and settled into the bed next to him. She wasn't sure if he heard her whispered, "Thank you," but she thought he might have.

___________________________________________________________________

A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing the last chapter!! It was a big one, and this one is not only shorter but a bit more of a transitional/setup chapter, so I hope no one's disappointed. There is more going on plot-wise than may seem apparent at first. Anyhoo – please review again!!

It's late and I'm about to keel over with exhaustion, so I'll have to add individual responses tomorrow night. 

Many thanks to the artists who drew fanart for me – I'm incredibly flattered and in awe of the artistic talent… 

And, FYI, Snapesforte has offered to host an illustrated version of Cloak on her website once it's complete. As we iron out the details I'll post more about that. 


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. **The Call of the Blood and the concepts associated with it are my creations, not the creations of JK Rowling – please email me if you wish to use them or a derivative of them in a story. **

Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 21

_"If I insisted… you were supposed to kill me, weren't you?"_

_"Yes."_

Severus sighed quietly and stared up at the bedcurtains. He should have known that her logical mind would come to that conclusion… the correct conclusion. He and Dumbledore had, in fact, analyzed every possible outcome and scenario to her situation. There had been little choice but to either turn her away from the path, or to remove her from the path entirely.

They would do what they must.

What surprised him most about the confession she had wrung from him was the emotion he had sensed through the bond. Relief. Her emotions had been too erratic for him to sense anything concrete until the very end, when she uttered "Thank you." There had been an overwhelming sense of relief… Although he questioned, now, whether that feeling had actually been hers or his own.

He was still confused about those words, in fact. _Thank you_. What had she been thanking him for? For telling her, or …

… for being willing to do what had to be done?

It seemed that she understood their position, thankfully. She could not be allowed to go to the Dark. And yet… despite all of their efforts… she was. The Call had a toehold, and the Call was never content to let the link, even a thread-thin link, disintegrate. It would compel her, drive her emotions ragged, lure her to learn more… lure her to cast _Avada Kedavra_.

Or to perform the Blood Rites.

Frowning, he turned on his side to face her. She was sleeping, her even breathing calming him. He knew what she was planning. It was all too obvious, since their discussion about his Blood Loyalty pledge. But he would not allow her to sacrifice herself in such a way – to willfully and knowingly perform the very act which would throw the gates of her mind, her soul – her _essence _– wide and allow the Call free reign. The struggle could well be too much… she was strong, but he didn't know if she was strong enough to turn her back on a fully realized Call.

Ollivander and Moody had both confessed that they would have been unable to do so, had they formed the final link using the Blood Rites. They only felt it sporadically, but even that was enough to test the very bounds of their strength and determination. Severus, on the other hand, felt it at all times. Some times less than others – but it was always there. Waiting. Biding its time. He often wondered if it actually was strength and determination that kept it at bay… or simply pure stubbornness.

But… perhaps she was stubborn enough.

Perhaps.

"I thought the idea of keeping her here was to avoid something like this. To keep her from succumbing to the Call," Moody rasped out, staring at Severus with thinly veiled suspicion. Severus pursed his lips in annoyance, biting back his initial response at a stern look from Dumbledore.

"Severus did what he could, Alastor. She had already viewed the Book of the Blood before we were aware of Mr. Krum's involvement."

Moody shook his head. "_Blood of the friend_… damned bastards. This is the kind of scum you chose to join, Snape? Oh, but I forget… now you're _reformed_. A reformed Death Eat-"

"Alastor!" Dumbledore's voice was angrier than Severus had heard it in a long time. A shot of elation went through him at the furious look on the Headmaster's face. Moody's lips twisted strangely before he gave Severus a curt nod of apology. Severus returned the nod just as coldly, wondering – not for the first time – how he could have been fooled by Barty Crouch Jr.'s Polyjuice trick. He should have known the man was far too pleasant to be the _real _Moody.

Pushing the thought aside, Severus cleared his throat. The sooner he could get out of this office, the better. "She has not yet been taken by the Call, Moody. It is a toehold only."

Moody nodded slowly. "But if she performs Avada Kedavra…"

"Yes. Or the Blood Rites," Severus bit out. "She knows the danger."

Moody's face relaxed into a concerned expression. He did _so_ worry about his pet Gryffindors. "She may know the danger… but the lure will be great. Resisting it is easier said than done. Is she strong enough?"

Dumbledore glanced at Severus. "I believe she is, Alastor," the Headmaster said.

Severus shifted in his seat, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb along his wedding band. "She is strong enough, yes. However, there will be some very… difficult… times for her shortly." He caught Albus' eye and saw the dawning comprehension in the Headmaster's gaze. "Faced with her parents' murderer… not to mention the murderer – or at the least the man who orchestrated the murder of – her friend Mr. Weasley…"

Moody's brows grew together. "What's he talking about, Albus?"

Albus sighed heavily. "It can no longer be avoided. Tom Riddle has demanded that she be brought before him."

"To a Death Eater meeting?" Moody replied harshly, his magical eye rolling to stare at Severus in a very disconcerting manner. He cleared his throat.

"No. I was able to… dissuade… the Dark Lord of that notion. On Friday, Macnair will hold his annual get-together."

Moody turned both eyes to look at Albus once more. "Death Eater Dinner Party. We should just crash it, take all the scum out at once." Severus sneered

"You know that's not possible, Alastor." Dumbledore's voice was tired. "We must wait for them to bring the battle to us. On our ground. Harry must be prepared. The prophecies – both of them – must be fulfilled. This time, Tom Riddle must die. Permanently."

The sneer still on his lips, Severus said, "And aside from that, Moody, Macnair has set so many traps and wards around his manor it would be near to impossible to attack there. He has zones erected with different sets of wards, even, so it would take more curse-breakers than you know to get through them all. And by then, the element of surprise would be lost."

Moody sat back and let out a low growl of frustration. "Well, then, Albus. What now?"

"I believe we need to take another look at the prophecy, my old friend. See what other interpretations we can make of it."

Moody snorted. For once, Severus agreed. The old Auror shook his head as he said, "_Blood Rites will conquer the shadow_. I'd like to know if there's another possible interpretation for _that _phrase."

Severus sat back in his chair, turning his head to gaze out of the window. He heard Albus answer. "Alastor, we must plan for all possibilities. _Even if_ that phrase has another interpretation."

"You know my thoughts on that, Dumbledore." Moody's voice was a low growl. "I'm holding the Call back now. But if I perform the Blood Rites… who knows what the effect could be."

"The bond cannot be altered once in place, Moody," Severus snapped, turning his head back to face the older man. Moody stared at him evenly.

"That's the theory. I'm sure you can understand that I don't want to place all my trust in a few theoretical books written by Dark wizards."

"It's not just theory, Moody. It bears out in practice, also. Look at the Lestranges. Rodolphus finalized the link using _Avada_ _Kedavra_. Had he finalized it with the Blood Rites, as Bellatrix did, then he would be as insane as his wife after years in Azkaban."

"Well, forgive me if I don't care to gamble my soul on the word of your Death Eat-"

"That's enough, gentlemen." A heavy silence fell, broken by Albus. "What of Ollivander?"

Severus shook his head. "He won't. He wishes to remain neutral, as he did in the Grindelwald conflict. He's already done more than he intended, giving us those lists of names."

Dumbledore nodded, unsurprised. "What of Herm-" He stopped when he caught Severus' cold glare. Silence fell again, only broken when Moody began to chuckle. Startled, Severus turned his cool gaze on the old Auror.

"A little more attached to her than you expected, Snape?" Moody asked with an unfriendly smile. Severus did not deign to answer.

Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly. "Well. We will have to revisit that as we draw closer to the time of battle. In the meantime… have you had a chance to look through the Book, Severus?"

"For this elusive _key _from the prophecy? Albus, there are many spells and rituals in a Book of the Blood. No two Books are exactly alike." Severus shook his head and looked out the window once more.

Moody spoke then. "We need to let some more minds in on this. Lupin and Shacklebolt are my suggestions." Severus turned back to look at the other two men, meeting Dumbledore's gaze. _Lupin. _The man, admittedly, was a master of defense against the Dark Arts. Reluctantly, Severus nodded.

"Do you mean to tell them about Hermione, also?"

"They are discreet, Severus."

"Shacklebolt is an Auror."

"And a member of the Order. His loyalty is to us first," Moody ground out. Severus nodded absently. Shacklebolt and Lupin both did seem fond of Hermione, perhaps it would be safe to let them know. And she would need as much support as possible, to continue her resistance of the Call, if he were to fall in battle. If he were required to perform the Blood Rites.

As if reading his mind, Albus said, "Both men would not allow any harm to come to Hermione, Severus. You should know that." Severus nodded, scowling.

"You seem mighty concerned about this girl who you claimed would just be a burden, Snape. Gotten under your skin, has she?" Moody cackled unpleasantly.

Severus shook his head, a condescending smirk on his lips. "Believe what you will, Moody."

"Well, Alastor. I will leave it to you to inform Kingsley and Remus about the situation sometime this week. We should prepare to meet again next Sunday."

Moody nodded and stood. Severus watched as the old Auror clunked over to where he sat, raising an eyebrow silently. What did the old fool want now? "She's a good girl, Severus. Take care of her. If anyone can help her resist, you can." Not waiting for a response, Moody continued out of the room. Severus was unable to take his eyes off of the old Auror's back, off of the brown robes that swayed with each uneven step… off of the door as it shut behind the Auror.

Was Moody finally coming to trust him?

He was startled when Albus cleared his throat. "Severus… I was thinking…" Inwardly, Severus cringed, steeling himself. Generally, nothing good ever followed that statement. "Hermione should assist you in your search through the Book." Severus' blood ran cold.

He waited a moment until he had his anger under control, and then said, "Absolutely not. Did you hear nothing Moody and I told you?"

"She is the only one to have a breakthrough regarding this prophecy. Two breakthroughs. I really ought to reevaluate her abilities in Divination…"

"No."

"Severus-"

"_No_."

"It should be her choice. I will present the idea to her."

"Damn it, Albus!" Severus hissed, rising from the chair and stalking to the Headmaster's desk.

"Severus, this may be our only chance to win. She has shown an ability to look beyond the obvious and decipher this prophecy… she has the best chance at looking beyond the obvious and finding the key that is in that book!"

Severus' lips twisted and he paced to the window, leaning on the ledge heavily as he stared unseeing through the glass. The Call already had a toehold on her… if she studied a Book of the Blood, particularly _that _Book of the Blood… the bridge that would be built would be immense. And if it were finalized…

Albus' voice was hard and cold when he said, "This is a war, Severus."

Severus' head whipped around at the words.

"Oh, indeed? You think I don't know that? My entire _life_ has been shaped by this infernal war, one thrice-damned thing after another, enduring indescribable pain and suffering for the cause of this war. But that is not enough, evidently. Now, you want me to risk the one good thing…" Severus stopped, appalled at how much he had said. Turning his back on the Headmaster, he leaned against the window ledge, scowling, the knuckles of his hands going white as he clenched them into fists.

"You… care for her."

Severus continued to lean against the window ledge. He lifted his head for a moment and glanced at Albus before turning back to stare at the Hogwarts grounds, his jaw set. He did not answer.

Albus' voice was gentle as he said, "It's her choice, Severus."

He pushed away from the ledge. "And you will manipulate it so that your choice becomes her choice. You've done it to me often enough. The Head of Slytherin, outmaneuvered by a doddering old Gryffindor. Pathetic." Dumbledore opened his mouth, but stopped when Severus made a cutting gesture with one hand. "Spare me, Albus."

With no further words, he swept from the room, allowing the door to slam loudly behind him.

When Hermione's stomach settled from the Portkey travel, she looked around her in confusion. They were in the middle of a field, a line of carriages in front of them. "What-"

Severus sneered. "The carriage will take us the rest of the way to the Manor. Many of the purebloods employ such tactics. It's their way of keeping up airs, I believe the term is."

"And avoiding attack," Hermione mused quietly. Severus shot her a speculative look.

"Yes. Macnair is not a… trusting sort… you might say."

Hermione grinned at that. "Well, let's go pretend to be society, then."

As the carriage drove them to the Macnair Manor, Hermione mentally reviewed Severus' instructions. The Dark Lord would make an appearance at the actual meal, which would not occur for at least two hours after they arrived, to leave ample time for "socializing." (The sneer that had accompanied that word had been one of the finest Hermione had ever seen.) Maintain eye contact, but not too boldly. Do not avoid eye contact too suspiciously. Remember your trust in me. And try not to hex Malfoy.

The final caveat was undoubtedly the most difficult.

"Be wary of Lucius, Hermione. He will likely try to put you off-balance before the Dark Lord arrives. Nothing would further his own agenda more than to see me lowered in the Dark Lord's sight."

Hermione nodded. Yes. The final caveat would definitely be the most difficult.

Hermione had been suitably impressed with the massive marble staircase, but the rest of the manor was woefully overdone for her tastes. By the pinched look on Severus' face, he shared her opinion.

"The Macnairs have always been… ostentatious," he whispered in her ear. She fought back a grin as she eyed a dreadful chandelier… heavy crystal, gold, and silver, with undulating silver snakes coiled around each candle. She shook her head.

"They kind of overdid the snake theme, didn't they?" she asked in a low voice. The doorknobs, the banister, the chandelier – they all bore snake carvings. Some were even enchanted to move.

Severus snorted. "You should see Malfoy Manor."

"I'd rather not."

Finally, they reached the room indicated by the House Elf. Hermione turned to Severus to see him staring at her, his black eyes unreadable. "Are you ready?"

Swallowing, she nodded.

Hermione was actually having a pleasant time. While the other guests hadn't been precisely friendly, they had been polite enough and certainly interested in speaking with her. Of course, they all seemed to draw the conversation to Harry and how well she knew him within the first five minutes of small talk, but it was better than she had expected.

She was speaking with a plump woman in purple velvet dress robes when the woman stopped in mid-sentence, glanced over Hermione's shoulder, and made a quick escape. Hermione stared after her, confused.

Suddenly, a smooth voice came from behind her. A voice that she recognized all too well. She heard it in her dreams… her nightmares…

"I never did offer you my condolences on the loss of your parents and friend."

Carefully, she set her jaw and turned to face Lucius Malfoy. She nodded curtly, not trusting herself to talk. He seemed to sense the effort she was exerting to maintain control and he smirked at her, the nasty expression ruining the image of cold elegance that he worked so hard to maintain. _Just leave… please leave… _

"I was so very saddened to hear of it – such a tragedy…" his voice trailed off and the smirk turned into an ugly smile. "Such a tragic end… such an unnecessary sacrifice."

_Such a tragic end… such an unnecessary sacrifice._

Words straight from the letter that had been enclosed with the ring… the ring that had held Ron's blood… she could feel her face drain… then she could feel it grow warm… hot… her blood began to burn… her hand, buried in the pocket of her robe, clenched around her wand…

Can't… not now… 

The haze began to form at the corners of her vision…

Do it… answer it… he deserves it… 

The red haze… familiar, now… almost welcome…

Each step seems but a small one. No! 

She struggled against it, closing her eyes and turning her head. Lucius was saying something else, something that she couldn't quite catch… her ears were filled with the sound of her own heartbeat… she could hear her own blood rushing through her veins…

A hand on her elbow caused her to start. The red haze returned and her eyes snapped open in a fury, her fingers clutching the cool, familiar wood of her wand tightly. When she saw who stood before her, she gave a sigh of relief…

…even as something deep inside her howled in frustration…

Severus hadn't wanted to separate, but in order to keep up appearances they both had to mingle with the others – at least for a short time. If the others witnessed him keeping her on a short leash, so to speak, they would assume his control was weak. Or that her trust in him was weak. Either way, it could not be risked.

He had kept a close eye on her, even as he socialized with some of the other Death Eaters and their guests. Luckily it was a small gathering – exclusive, he supposed it could be called – and so he was able to keep her in his view as he mingled. And, also luckily, he was speaking with Rodolphus when he saw Lucius approach Hermione. Evil though the Rodolphus Lestrange inarguably was, he and Severus had always maintained a sort of respectful camaraderie – an alliance of sorts. A friendship, it could perhaps be considered.

He was well aware that sharing that knowledge with an outsider would appear ludicrous, but it was the simple truth.

As Lucius spoke, Severus' eyebrows drew together. Rodolphus glanced in the direction of Severus' gaze and shook his head slightly. "Be wary of that one, Severus. He wishes to see you fail. He wishes it too much, I think."

Severus' eyes did not leave Lucius as he nodded. "I agree, brother. And I'm afraid I should leave you for the moment, and see…" All of a sudden, his blood mark burned. He could feel the Call rising in her, could feel it through the bond… the loathing, the anger… Without waiting for Rodolphus' reply, he quickly made his way to where she and Lucius stood. Her eyes were closed, head turned to the side, and she practically jumped when he touched her elbow to gain her attention. He didn't miss the rigidity of her arm, and he knew instinctively that she was clutching her wand in a death grip.

"Come, Hermione," he said smoothly, glancing at Lucius. "She was unwell before we left."

"Of course. Perhaps you should take her to one of the private lounges to rest before the Dark Lord makes his appearance," the blond man replied, his voice filled with insincere concern.

Severus nodded coolly and led her from the room and into the hallway. She was still trembling, all of her muscles tense, and he could feel the Call still raging in her… it was sporadic, unable to get and keep her in its thrall, but it would grow stronger the longer her emotions remained in upheaval…

…the longer the Call went unsatisfied.

But what to do? He could not allow her in front of the Dark Lord like this… the Call was filling her, guiding her motions… it would be disastrous. She would never be able to achieve the emotional control necessary for Occlumency with the Call raging in her.

The Call would have to be satisfied before he could allow her back into the room. They had some time, still… an hour or more until the Dark Lord was set to arrive. Making his decision quickly, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hastened their pace. "Come." He guided her into a small room – one of the private lounges – and shut the door behind them, casting numerous wards and silencing charms.

Spinning her around to face him, he hissed, "Control it, Hermione! You can afford no mistakes tonight." One more chance, to see if she could force it back on her own.

She nodded but he could see the trembling in her limbs, could feel the roiling anger – spiking at times with the Call's influence. After a moment she shut her eyes tightly and shook her head. "I can't… I don't know how…"

He smirked and pulled her to him roughly, taking possession of her mouth. Her fingers twined into his hair and he winced slightly when her hands fisted, pulling harshly at the roots. He pulled away from the kiss long enough to look at her, to see the darkness clouding her eyes, the need… he could both see it _and_ feel it through the bond…

"Yes… relieve it… satisfy it… if you don't, you will have no relief from its demands…"

"How?"

"Causing pain, fear… the debauching of an innocent… though that might be difficult. I think you may have to stick with causing pain, my dear," he said with a wicked grin. Oh, yes… he was looking forward to this. He could feel his own Call rising in his blood in anticipation.

"I don't want to hurt you," she said, her voice husky, her hands already working at the fastenings to his robes.

"But I want you to hurt me," he growled against her mouth. "Draw my blood, Hermione." She looked at him with clouded eyes and pulled his clothes off quickly, pushing the heavy cloth of his dress robes from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor in a heap. As he worked on her clothes, she leaned forward and licked the blood bond mark… a jolt of arousal shot through him and he pulled violently at the remaining clothes that were now in his way.

He stopped himself once they were both naked, breathing heavily. He had to allow _her_ aggression to take control… he had to remain passive – as passive as he could, to help relieve the horrible tension the Call had given her. He hoped she would be able to let herself go…

… and his hopes were realized when she pounced at him, practically shrieking with a mixture of lust and anger…

Mouths, tongues, teeth… he was backed against the wall and his wrists held tightly in her hands as she slid down to kneel before him. He was surprised at her strength… and then he could think no more as she took him in her mouth.

She had become more practiced at this from her first time, and he leaned his head back against the wall, not bothering to stifle his moans as her lips and tongue moved over him. Her hands pressed harder against his wrists, driving them into the wall on either side of his hips as she licked him from base to tip. "Hermione…" he choked out even as she pulled her mouth away, nipping at the skin of his stomach and upper thighs. He moaned again when she detached one hand from his wrist and stroked him roughly.

Suddenly he hissed in a mixture of pain and pleasure as her roving mouth bit down on the top of his thigh… she continued the long, steady strokes as she sucked at the blood welling from the wounds… It appeared his concerns about her holding back were unfounded. He could feel, through the bond, her anger lessening and being replaced by something else… she rose to her feet sinuously, deliberately rubbing her body against his as she did, and his erection hardened further at the sensuous movement.

Being the passive partner wasn't a normal thing for Severus, and without thinking he grabbed her and swung her around, pressing her against the wall while he caught her mouth in a demanding kiss. She met his movements ferociously, the roughness she displayed reminding him of their predicament, and he pulled back slightly… loosening his hands on her arms when he did so.

"Hmm. This won't do. It won't do at all," Hermione whispered sultrily, slithering away from him and rummaging in her robes. "Here it is… this should make things a bit… easier." When she turned back to him, she had a wicked gleam in her eyes. "I told you I've been working on gaseous Transfiguration… let's see if I can make something of use to us here tonight."

She glided up to him and began to kiss him, leading him to the colorful rug in the center of the room. Pushing him down against the thick pile, she leaned over and sucked at the bite on his thigh, causing him to lay his head back and groan. With a feral glance at his face, she moved up to straddle him, positioning her center directly over him and then lowering herself to rub along his length… not allowing him to enter. When he tried to use his hands to control her movements, she shook her head. Grabbing his arms, she pushed his unresisting arms up over his head. "Stay," she commanded. He obeyed.

Too late, he noticed the wand in her right hand. With a quick flick and a muttered incantation, he felt something solid surrounding his wrists. He pulled at them experimentally, frowning slightly when they did not budge. It felt like no metal he could identify, and yet the substance was harder than steel… Hermione's hair brushed his face as she leaned down to whisper in his ear, "Just some shackles, my dear husband… I feel the need to be in control right now." She bit his earlobe hard before saying, "It's a little something I discovered… from gas to solid… from air to shackles..."

He was being held down by _air_?

He was unable to think of it further as her mouth claimed his… and that was the only term for it… a claiming. Her nails raked his skin, causing him to groan into her mouth at the unexpected – yet welcome – pain. She tortured him a while longer, teeth nipping, lips and tongue soothing… and then she rose over him on her knees, one hand reaching between them to position him just before she plunged down, sheathing him inside of her heat.

Afterwards, he gathered her into his arms and breathed in the scent of her hair, waiting for their heart rates to slow.

Eventually, she stirred beside him. "I guess we've got to go back out there."

"Hmm. Yes." Severus glanced at the clock on the wall. "The Dark Lord will likely be appearing shortly." Reluctantly, they stood up and Hermione laughed.

"This is crazy, I'm about to face the Dark Lord and all I can think about is how relaxed I feel."

"Better than being tempted by the Call when you go before him," Severus said darkly. "Remember your lessons, Hermione. No mistakes."

A serious expression took over her face and she nodded. Whipping out her wand, she cast a few cleaning spells and they both dressed quickly. "How do I look?" she asked, reaching up to touch her hair.

"Like you've just finished molesting your husband in a side room during a party," he commented, fingering a curl that had escaped its confines.

"Mmm. That won't do, will it?" Hermione commented, moving over to a small mirror hanging near the door and fixing her hair with a few waves of her wand. "Well? Are we ready now?"

With a curt nod, he took her arm and led her back to the gathering.

Red eyes. Harry had told her… Severus had mentioned it in passing… but it hadn't really sunk in until she saw it for herself.

The Dark Lord had red eyes.

She stamped down the small tremor she felt when his gaze passed over her. He sat at the head of the table, not eating, just sitting. And observing. And his gaze had crossed over her too often for her comfort.

Next to her, Severus' face was set in an emotionless mask. She could only hope she was doing half as well. Though he had told her that she only needed to block when the Dark Lord was looking directly at her, she had maintained the Occlumency blocks through the entire meal. She couldn't risk a potentially damaging image to go flying out when his gaze passed over hers.

After the dinner, she would be formally introduced to him. Gods… she barely held back a jump when she felt a hand on her leg. _Severus. _With warm, comforting strokes, he relaxed her… lent her strength. Taking a deep breath, she concentrated on finishing her meal.

After the dinner, there was another short bout of socializing before the Dark Lord requested her presence. "Come before me, my newest daughter."

_Daughter? What is he playing at? I'm a filthy Mudblood!_

As if he had heard her thoughts, he hissed, "As the wife of one of my sons, so are you my daughter." Hermione inclined her head respectfully and moved to stand in front of him, concentrating on not trembling as his eyes met hers.

Carefully, Hermione blocked the damaging images. She let her mind wander through the rest of her memories… Severus, smiling gently at her… herself, counseling Harry to relax, to trust Severus, to question Dumbledore's motives… herself, telling Severus that she trusted him… herself, telling Ginny that she was falling in love with him… Harry, telling her he was frightened, that she may be right about not trusting Dumbledore… Lucius' sneering face and the loathing she felt… and then, completely unbidden, came a final image – herself, opening the envelope with Ron's ring in it, retching, fear and pain flooding through her… she couldn't hold his gaze anymore. With a supreme force of will, she cast her eyes down and knelt.

"My Lord."

"Rise." She rose but still kept her eyes downcast. "Look at me, daughter."

Reluctantly, she lifted eyes. His face was full of a cold fury and a wave of fear swept through her. "There is one here who has caused you great grief." The Dark Lord paused before hissing, "Isn't there?"

"Y-yes…" she stammered. Her fright was receding, being replaced by confusion.

"Lucius," the Dark Lord said, turning his gaze to the blond man standing beside Severus. Lucius immediately approached and knelt. "Rise, Lucius." As the blond man stood, pale blue eyes met fierce red eyes and Lucius froze. "You have followed your own counsel long enough, my son. I believe I ordered you to leave Mrs. Snape in peace."

Hermione couldn't help but glance at Severus, a slight furrowing of his brows the only sign of his shock. He frowned at her and she quickly turned her attention back to the tableau playing out in front of her.

"My Lord… I only meant to-"

"You have a good reason for disobeying me, Lucius?" The red eyes glittered. Lucius shook his head. "You have displeased me. We wish to gain our new daughter's trust, not undermine it with foolish displays."

"My Lord… we only wished to return that which belonged to her-"

"_Crucio._"

Involuntarily, Hermione took a step back, away from the writhing man on the floor. She watched him disdainfully, her lip curling as he screamed his agony. As he continued to twitch with the aftershocks, she felt a small smile grow on her face.

The room was deathly silent. She could feel the confusion among the Inner Circle members… it was almost palpable.

"Perhaps this will be a lesson to all of you gathered here. Follow your own agenda at your own risk. My word is law." The Dark Lord glanced down at the blond man, who still knelt on the floor, gasping. Bending down, the powerful dark wizard lifted Lucius' left sleeve and touched the Mark.

Lucius screamed.

The man who was once Tom Riddle slowly rose. "You are still a member of my Inner Circle, Lucius. Barely. However, do not fail me again."

"Y-yes my Lord." Lucius kept his eyes downcast until the Dark Lord moved away. When he raised his head, he stared directly at Severus.

And Hermione recoiled at the pure hatred in those pale blue eyes.

**_

* * *

Note: This chapter has been edited – for the full "lemon" version, see lordandladysnape.net or adultfanfiction.net._**

A/N: Thank you so much for reviewing! I do hope you enjoyed this chapter – it gave me some troubles – more than any other – so I hope it came out all right. There was a rather obvious (to me, at least!!) clue in this chapter as to one line of the prophecy… I'm curious to see if it really WAS obvious or if it's only obvious to the author who knows what she's looking for ;).

I apologize for once again not having time to address individual reviews. It honestly takes about two hours to do, and I'm exhausted… my "real job" has been busier lately and with that and a toddler, it leaves me much less time for writing. Midnight is about my limit when I have to wake up at 5 AM the next morning… anyhoo - I hope that next week I'll be able to address individual reviews again. I DO read them all – usually the moment they come in – and they really really help me so please do review! Particularly if something doesn't seem clear – I can usually go back and reiterate it in the next chapter if it's something a lot of people are unclear on.

For those that requested it – here is another copy of the Prophecy:

The key to ensure light over shadows prevail

Is in the blood of the friend, bound in red

From dark to light, from despair to hope

From stag to blade, from blade to flesh

Betrayal brings hope, loyalty brings ruin

Blood Rites will conquer the shadow

And the Dark Lord will be dead.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. **The Call of the Blood and the concepts associated with it are my creations, not the creations of JK Rowling – please email me if you wish to use them or a derivative of them in a story. **

Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_** This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 22

Severus was silent on the way back to the Apparition point, and the mood in the carriage was such that Hermione accepted this without comment. She knew that what they had to discuss was better left to the comfort and privacy of their chambers.

As the carriage rolled along, she went over the events of the evening in her mind. Or she tried to, rather. Every time she began to think about the confrontation with the Dark Lord, an image of Lucius' normally cold blue eyes – burning with hatred – claimed her attention. He blamed Severus for his demotion, that was apparent. What was not apparent was what the blond man could _do_ about it.

She cast a glance at Severus and noted the rigidity of his posture with unease, wondering what was running through his mind. His black eyes had not wavered since the carriage began to move – staring out at the moonlit landscape that passed quickly beyond the window. She was reminded forcefully of the moods he often fell into after some of the more… difficult… Death Eater meetings.

The Dark Lord had departed shortly after the incident with Lucius, and Severus had made their excuses and left soon after. The last few minutes before leaving had been a blur of tight smiles and insincere wishes to meet again soon… although, she had to admit that Rodolphus Lestrange's wishes had seemed almost genuine. From what she could sense, there was some relationship – a friendship, perhaps - between Severus and the Lestrange man.

She glanced at her husband's face once more, at first thinking it was good if he had a friend of sorts on the inside. And then the cold realization hit her…

Neville.

The only guest present that night who had seemed even the slightest bit welcoming to her was the same man who had assisted in the merciless torture of the Longbottoms. She shook her head, the bile rising in her throat. That man – Rodolphus Lestrange – was responsible for the condition of the Longbottoms. Gods… she vividly recalled the first time she had seen Neville's mother at St. Mungo's… vividly recalled the look on Neville's face as his mother handed him the gum wrapper…

And this man was friends with Severus?

Possibly sensing her sudden unease through their blood bond, Severus looked at her for the first time since they entered the carriage. She just shook her head mutely and he quirked an eyebrow before resuming his contemplation of the countryside. The dark countryside.

She sat for a moment before her thoughts returned to Lestrange. Why had she reacted like that? Almost every person in that room had done things she would find to be utterly repugnant, and she had known that and accepted it. Known and accepted that Severus had also done those types of things. Unforgivables… a spot of Muggle torture, as Harry had quoted from the night the Dark Lord regained his body.

Ruthlessness.

She had been surrounded by it, that night. And wasn't she still? She looked at the dark figure of her husband, the trees blocking what light had been shining through the window… giving only a glimpse of glittering dark eyes and pale skin when the carriage passed a small break in the towering foliage. She sighed slightly and looked down at her wedding band.

Wedding rings… blood… the Dark Arts… the Call…

_They will pay. I will make them pay._

She wasn't just surrounded by ruthlessness…

It was inside of her.

It was a part of her.

---

For Severus, the carriage ride had afforded him an opportunity to think over the evening's events with an objective eye before his wife's questions began. He gazed out of the window as the landscape rolled by, considering the events from every angle, planning the appropriate images to bring forth at the next Death Eater meeting. Suddenly he felt a surge of unease flow through the bond, and he glanced at Hermione. The moonlight lit her face with an otherworldly glow, and she seemed almost… ethereal. Serene. Which was certainly at odds with the unease that he felt coming from her, the unease that had pulled him from his thoughts. Seeing her shake her head slightly, he firmly pushed back his annoyance and turned back to stare through the window. If only she could be taught to control her emotions…

How could she dream of holding back the Call with her emotions so raw, so open… such upheaval, waiting below the surface… He shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. Her emotional upheaval had had dire consequences that night…

Not that the act itself had been dire – Severus had quite enjoyed her aggressiveness – but having her draw his blood, allowing the Call to taste physical blood when it was raging within her… he well knew what effect that would have. Bit by bit, the bridge was growing stronger in her… letting more of the Call in. But it couldn't be helped – had she gone before the Dark Lord with her emotions in such turmoil, with the Call raging within her, she would have been unable to keep their secrets.

She would have been killed. Immediately.

Instead… she had been able to satisfy the Call, to drive it back across the thin bridge. And of course it had acquiesced – it had gotten what it wanted out of the exchange, after all – a thickening of the link. And, as a result of the Call's triumphant retreat, she was able to face the Dark Lord clear-headed. And, instead of killing her, the Dark Lord had granted her a boon. To see her enemy, the one who had caused her _great grief_, writhing on the floor of Macnair Manor…

Oh, how Severus relished that vision. He smiled in satisfaction as he replayed the moment in his mind. His intense fear at the Dark Lord's furious gaze had melted and reshaped into intense pleasure at the sight of his enemy under the wand of the Dark Lord. And, more importantly, his adversary had been moved down dramatically in the ranks.

He was aware of the utter silence following that event. He could almost hear the Death Eaters' thoughts – _Over a Mudblood? _Though the Dark Lord had made it clear that Lucius' punishment came from defying explicit orders, Severus had no doubts that the majority of participants in the evening's events placed the blame directly at the feet of the young Muggleborn witch in their midst. And, consequently, at the feet of Severus himself.

Particularly Lucius. Severus had no doubt that the humiliation of being bested by someone that Lucius himself had mentored burned deeply. The deadly glare the blond man had shot him attested to that.

Yes, Severus would have to be on his guard even more now. Sitting back and allowing himself to relax for the first time during the carriage ride, he began to consider just what tidbits to send Lucius when Hermione next wrote in the journal. Perhaps it would be wise to avoid taunting him further until some time had passed.

---

Finally, the carriage halted and Hermione and Severus Apparated back to the gates of Hogwarts. Dressed as they were, they looked like nothing other than a couple returning from an evening out in Hogsmeade, or perhaps Diagon Alley. Hermione smiled slightly. She never dreamed that they would get along so well when this entire ridiculous plan was first presented to her by the two men. She certainly would never have dreamed that she would fall in love with the man.

She only wished she knew how he felt towards her. She had a sinking feeling that he didn't exactly return her affections. Although… he had told her that he trusted her. And coming from a man like Severus – maybe that was even better than an admission of love.

It was not that she expected – or wanted - flowers and love letters. Merlin forbid… if she was faced with a Severus bearing either one she wouldn't even have to resort to using their code word to know it was a Polyjuiced imposter. No, he would never be a flowers and sweets type. Which suited her perfectly. She had no patience for empty displays of sentiment. But… it would be nice to have her feelings reciprocated.

Sighing quietly, she took his proffered arm and followed him to their chambers. She smiled at the sour expression on his face when they passed a suit of armor that was cheerily singing "Jingle Bells."

Christmas didn't seem to be his time of year.

It suddenly struck her that it was already the beginning of December. In a week, McGonagall (and Severus, she assumed) would pass around the sign-up sheet for those students who would be staying at Hogwarts over the break. She wondered for a moment if Harry would stay, or if he would take the Weasleys up on their invitation and go to the Burrow. Either way, she would need to get his gift shortly.

And Severus' gift, also. She bit her lip. She knew there was nothing in Hogsmeade that would be appropriate, which meant a trip to Diagon Alley. But she certainly couldn't ask Severus to accompany her… and neither Ginny nor Harry would be able to go with her. It was definitely out of bounds for students. Perhaps Minerva or Remus would have the time.

As they entered their chambers she shook herself mentally, pushing aside her thoughts of the holidays. Was it some sort of defense mechanism of her mind, to consume itself with mundane thoughts when she became too stressed over other thoughts? She led the way to the study, where she kicked off her shoes and sunk into the couch, closing her eyes and letting out a breath as the tension finally left her.

She felt the cushion next to her dip down and knew Severus had followed her example. Turning her face towards him, she opened her eyes only to see Severus peering down at her with an unreadable expression. "What is it?" she asked, blinking.

He stared at her a moment longer before pulling out his wand and pointing it at the fireplace. She could see the reflection in his eyes as the flames sprang up at his command, and the odd glittering quality gave her the chills. Still staring at the fire, he said evenly, "Tell me what the Dark Lord saw. What caused him to… punish… Malfoy."

The tension returned to her limbs and she sat up straight before answering. He listened attentively, his brows furrowed slightly as he concentrated on her words. After describing the images and associated emotions that the Dark Lord had seen, she looked down at her hands. "I didn't mean to let the last bit slide out. I didn't block it, either… it just-"

Severus turned to her with an amused look. "Hermione – that was the most valuable of the images that you showed him. And, as I told you in our lessons – it would be close to impossible for you to have the ability to spin images out at will in the short amount of time we had to prepare for this meeting. It takes most people years to gain that amount of aptitude; many months to even gain the ability to block images. We were very fortunate indeed that you proved to be so adept at the art."

"Oh… I thought-" She was cut off by Severus' deep voice.

"What I am concerned about is not your Occlumency skills, Hermione." Turning to face her again, she saw that all amusement had disappeared from his face. She frowned in confusion as he continued to regard her silently. Finally, he said, "I am concerned about your link to the Call. And your ability to resist it."

She felt her cheeks grow warm and she looked down at her hands, her eye caught by the wedding ring on her left hand. The flames cast a warm orange glow over the half facing the fireplace… the contrast between the cool white platinum and the glowing orange reflection mesmerizing her for a moment. "I can… it was unfamiliar surroundings, Severus, and I didn't expect-"

"You'll never _expect_, Hermione. You must be ready, at all times. What we did… what we were forced to do… your link to the Call is stronger now."

Hermione nodded. She had realized that the moment she tasted his blood in her mouth. The Call had entered her for a moment, stronger than ever, though it had retreated almost as quickly… a small amount lingering on until her lust had been sated. "Why did you tell me to draw your blood, then?"

"It was the only way to ensure the Call was satisfied… to ensure it would retreat completely before the Dark Lord appeared. Trust me, Hermione – the idea of you succumbing to the Call is far more attractive to me than the idea of you being tortured to death by the Dark Lord. And that's completely aside from the fact that I would have quickly followed you into death, had the Dark Lord seen all that you know."

"Oh." Hermione shifted in the chair, pulling her robes around her more comfortably. "Is… will it always be like that? If I… if I taste blood?"

Severus shook his head. "Not much is known. I believe so. It will strengthen the link at the same time as the Call recedes…" Hermione swallowed. "The danger has grown for you. You _must not _read any more in the Dark Arts volumes… you _must not _cast _Avada Kedavra_, or perform the Blood Rites… the urge will be great."

Hermione frowned suddenly. "As long as I don't finalize the link, what does it matter how strong the bridge is?"

Severus closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a breath. "If it should ever come to pass that you finalize the link… the smaller the bridge is at that time, the better. Believe me." His voice sounded strangely hollow.

She nodded slowly. It made sense… particularly since she had a sneaking suspicion than Moody would refuse to be the one to perform the Blood Rites. And, since she refused to allow Severus to sacrifice himself…

…that left her.

---

Severus shook his head and sat back in the chair, rubbing his eyes before glancing at the man seated across from him. Alastor Moody, in his private chambers. Who would have ever believed such a thing would come to pass?

But it had.

Moody hadn't seemed any happier about the arrangement than Severus, though he had agreed with Dumbledore's suggestion quickly. It was the simple truth that Severus' chambers had the strongest wards available in the castle – with the possible exception of the Headmaster's office – against Dark Magic and eavesdropping. It was safer, by all accounts, to leave the Book of the Blood where it was and simply bring Moody to their chambers to study it.

Severus had already spelled a quill to transcribe the book onto five sets of parchment. The meeting with Lupin and Shacklebolt wasn't until the next day, but he wished to get a copy to Hermione that evening to forestall the possibility of her breaking his wards and studying the book on her own. She was just maddening enough to do it. Dumbledore, true to his word, had approached Hermione with the option of helping them look through the Book of the Blood. She had eagerly agreed, wanting greatly to assist with the research. Wanting greatly to learn more of the Dark Arts.

Moody eyed him suspiciously. "So – transcribing already. Getting an early start?"

Severus glanced at the older wizard and frowned. He reached out and picked up the spelled quill, twirling it in his hands for a moment before setting it back to its task with a flick of his fingers. "Hermione is… eager… to begin. I don't wish her to have any more exposure than necessary to the original book."

"So – speaking of Hermione… where is your young wife?" Moody growled, the older man's raspy voice grating on Severus' eardrums like sandpaper.

"Out," Severus answered curtly.

"Charming as ever, Snape," Moody commented with a wry smile. "Did she finally get tired of your sneering and go off to hunt down a young buck with a better disposition?"

Severus rolled his eyes and let out a breath. "I answer only in the hopes that you will shut up, Moody. She is with Minerva."

"Hmm. I hear her apprentice project is going well. Very well, indeed. Might even be qualified as a Master sooner than she'd expect, as I understand it."

"Quite."

"What do you think she'll do then? Though it may not have any bearing on you, really. By then the Final Battle should be over, this law gone, and you'll be free to be on your own again." Moody shot him an unpleasant smile. "I'm sure that would please you, eh, Snape?"

Severus redirected his attention to the quill as it continued its journey across the parchments, ignoring the man's goading words. His hand itched to draw his wand, but he tamped down the urge.

"Or maybe it wouldn't please you, then?"

Severus raised his head. "Moody – do just come out and say what you are hinting at. Your clumsy attempts at subtlety are giving me a headache."

Moody's brows drew down. "You're attached to her, Snape. Admit it. Why else would you care if she succumbs to the Call? Imagine the surprise attack we'd have available, if she did. Unforgivables… the Blood Rites, if needed. As a matter of strategy it would help us if she was under the Call, have you considered that?"

"I have considered it," Snape said coldly.

Moody's hand came down hard on the table. "Then stop letting your emotions get in the way of your sense, Snape!"

Severus kept his face carefully impassive, but inside his mind was reeling from the ex-Auror's words. Was that what he was doing? Was he ignoring an obvious advantage to them because of his… fondness… for Hermione? He shook his head sharply. No. There were too many risks if she should succumb to the Call – beyond any emotional… attachment… he may possess. Even Dumbledore had seen – and acknowledged – the risks.

Moody sat forward, his magical eye seeming to stare straight through Severus. "She would resist it. She would turn her back on it, Snape. She's a Gryffindor."

"So was Pettigrew," Severus snapped. He held Moody's eyes until the other man turned away.

"She is not like Pettigrew, Snape. And I think we're going to need her help. She can do it. Merlin, man, she _wants_ to do it." With that, Moody stood and left the room, letting the door slam firmly behind him.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Severus said softly to the empty room.

---

"Very good work today, Hermione. I think we've completed all the preparations we'll need for the end of term exams," Minerva said with satisfaction, arching her back to stretch it. Hermione was reminded of a cat, and stifled a smile when she remembered the Professor's animagus form. It certainly seemed appropriate.

"That's good. I'm looking forward to the holidays even more now than when I was a student."

Minerva laughed. "I remember the feeling. The students get a bit more high-strung closer to the holidays, also, which makes us appreciate the time off even more. Though I wonder how many students may stay over the break this year, with Voldemort growing in power." There had been more Muggle raids, and a few raids on wizarding families that openly supported Dumbledore, over the past few weeks. Luckily, none of the wizarding raids had resulted in a death, yet – though there had been some deaths resulting from the Muggle raids. Severus had informed the Order that activity would pick up with all of the new recruits that were being initiated, and his prediction proved to be true.

"Speaking of the holidays, Minerva… I was wondering if you would accompany me to Diagon Alley sometime before Christmas? I wanted to pick up something for Severus-"

A wide smile split the Transfiguration Professor's face. "Of course, Hermione. The first week of holidays would be perfect, I think. I have a bit of shopping to do myself… for a few people that can't be taken care of with the shops in Hogsmeade. Honestly, what do you get a man like Dumbledore for Christmas?"

"Socks?"

"I've already done that too many Christmases to count. Well, I'm sure we'll find something. Why don't you run along and relax, Hermione. It's a Saturday, after all."

After a short trip to the Gryffindor Common Room, Hermione returned to the dungeons hoping to find Severus in their chambers alone. She liked Moody, but she was rather tired to entertain a guest at the moment. Not to mention, she would see him at the meeting tomorrow.

She was beyond pleased that Dumbledore had approached her with the choice of whether or not to assist with the research for the key. Of course she had accepted… with Severus determined to keep her away from everything she was beginning to feel a bit estranged from the entire project. He hadn't seemed very pleased, but he had grudgingly agreed to her help - though she would only be allowed to read from transcribed pages and not from the original book.

She had no argument with that. Particularly now, knowing what she did about the blood that shone wetly on the pages…

Severus had commented on the strength of the Call that emanated from the Book of the Blood that Viktor had sent her… and although her senses hadn't quite matured enough to recognize it, she had sensed _something _about the book… something aside from the _wrongness_. Perhaps it was the Call, reaching out for her… perhaps it was something else. It was unlikely that she would ever truly know.

She could tell the strength of it from Severus' reactions, besides. After spending time with Moody, searching the book for the key, he was on edge… feral… even more aggressive and snappish than normal. Her only hope was to distracthim before the aggression switched to anger. If she hit it at the right moment then everyone involved benefited. She grinned in anticipation.

"Severus?" she called softly as she entered the study. There was a muffled sound from the bedroom, along with sounds of… _splashing_? It couldn't be… she strode through their chambers, following the sound, and stopped in the doorway to the bathroom.

_Oh, this is too good of an opportunity to waste, _she thought with a delicious shiver. Severus was in the huge tub, his head tilted back, the ends of his hair fanning around him in the clear water. She could see his lean torso disappearing into the water, and she licked her lips unconsciously as she studied him.

She jumped slightly when a voice, silken smooth, came from the bath. "Well? Are you planning on joining me or were you planning on standing there staring at me?"

She chuckled and leaned against the sink as his eyes opened slowly. "It's a tough call."

"Hmm. I did draw this bath with you in mind, you realize."

She smiled then and began to undress, slowing her movements to tease him as she became aware of his eyes on her. "Well, if you drew it for me then why aren't there any bubbles?"

He snorted at that, his eyes fixed on her body as she peeled off her robes. "I refuse to sit in a… _bubble bath_." The scorn with which he infused those words was amazing and she couldn't help but laugh. Gods, but she loved this man…

… and she would not lose him. She would see to it.

Making her way to the edge of the tub, she knelt and gave him a lingering kiss. "Oh, really? You refuse to sit in a bubble bath?" she said challengingly. With a flick of her wrist, she turned one of the foaming faucets. _So much more efficient than Muggle bubble bath, _she thought in satisfaction as the foam quickly covered the surface of the water. She grinned at his narrow-eyed look and began to comment when, with a sharp tug on her arm, she found herself in the tub with him. Shaking her head to clear the bubbles from her face, she turned to face him with a mock glare.

"Correction. I refuse to sit in one _alone._" And with that, he pushed her against the side of the tub and began his assault on her willing body.

---

The next day, Hermione sat in the Room of Requirement in a comfortable chair, frustrated. The five of them had searched through spells and rituals for hours with no success. Nothing was leaping out at her, and when she glanced around the table she saw a similar blankness on the men's faces. She was glad now that Severus had kept her occupied for most of the prior evening rather than allowing her to waste any more time in research. Unable to take it anymore, she dropped her parchments on the table and stood, pacing.

"Hermione?" Remus said. "Is everything all right?"

She shook her head, thinking. "This is wrong. We're going about this all wrong."

"Really?" Moody growled.

She turned to face the men seated at the table and met Severus' eyes. "Yes, Mrs. Snape – do tell us how you would approach this little… project of ours," Severus said with one eyebrow raised sardonically. He appeared to be just as annoyed as she was at their lack of progress.

"Well, to start with… which spells are unique to this particular book?"

Moody answered her. "No way to know. There are unique spells in every Book of the Blood, young woman. Spells that appear in no other books."

Hermione frowned and glanced at Remus and Kingsley. She had no idea if they knew about Viktor, and she wasn't planning to be the one to tell them about the origin of this book. "How does the… scribe… know the spells to write them?"

Severus sat back and ran a hand through his hair. "The scribe enters into a trance state. The Call guides his hand."

"Oh." Hermione wished for a moment that she had a strong drink, and obediently the Room of Requirement produced a tray with a Firewhisky bottle and five glasses. She chuckled a moment and shook her head, concentrating on her need for a bottle of wine instead. It appeared instantly.

Moody rose and grabbed the Firewhisky bottle, pouring himself a glass. "Right. Sometimes, new spells appear. Sometimes more than other times, depends on the book."

"And the incantations used. How much of the Call is called forth to reside in the ink... there are too many variables to mention, Hermione," Severus added.

"New spells…" Hermione sat back down in her chair, taking a long sip of her wine.

Severus nodded and fixed his gaze on her. "New spells… such as some of the immortality spells the Dark Lord used. He wrote many Books of the Blood, hoping each time that the Call would guide his hand and reveal new potions, new rituals, new incantations… anything to help him achieve his dream of immortality."

"And one of them must have worked. Too bad we don't know which one," Kingsley commented dryly, giving Moody a nod in thanks as he accepted the proffered glass of Firewhisky. Remus shook his head in polite refusal.

Hermione shook her head, trying desperately to clear it. She could sense the answer sitting at the edge of her mind… what was wrong with her? "That's it! What went wrong the first time? The first time he died… what went wrong? Why didn't he die?"

"His soul survived… his body was killed," Remus answered in a steady voice.

"So is there a spell or ritual to kill the soul?"

Kingsley frowned. "There could be… but what if he is a true immortal now? We don't have any way to know which of the spells and potions that he used were successful."

Hermione chewed her lip in thought. "Well, even so… is there something to keep a soul from returning to a body? Something like that?" The room went absolutely silent.

"You know, I think she's right, Snape," Moody said in his raspy voice. Hermione winced as he took another long gulp of the fiery liquid. _No wonder his voice is like that… that stuff is worse than drinking rubbing alcohol._

"Of course she's right. She's always right," Severus said sourly, though she could detect a hint of pride in his voice.

The five of them returned to their search with a renewed vigor.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Another transitional chapter, but again – a bit more going on than may appear at first glance. It's the calm before the storm… We're heading for the home stretch now – I don't want to give an exact chapter count because sometimes the chapters flow better with extra scenes or some scenes shifted to another chapter… but, give or take a couple, we're about 4 chapters from the end.

When I went back to edit this chapter, this phrase stuck out: "began his assault on her willing body" – I know I've read that somewhere before, but I can't remember what fic I snitched it from. If it's yours, please let me know and I'll credit you accordingly. I think it may be one of the "classics" but I'm not sure… I tried to find another phrase which worked as well, but that one seemed to want to stay. I'll slice it out if the author has any objections.

I'm pleased to note that there were some people who found the clue in the last chapter and mentioned it to me… of course I won't tell you what it was until the end, but keep reviewing and giving your theories – I'm doing the House Points thing again (like I did with Scars) so it should be fun to see which House and site wins the House Cup this time around… or should it be the Cup of the Blood? Teehee… that sounds rather disgusting, actually, so I'll stick with the House Cup ;).

Thank you to all of my reviewers!! I'm really touched that so many of you are not only reviewing, but leaving very long and detailed reviews – it's not necessary, but it's oh so very appreciated!!!!

And special thanks to anyone who notices errors in my fic and points them out to me – I was just informed by someone that I've been misspelling Flourish and Blotts this entire time… for some reason it's in my head as "Flourish and Botts" which makes no sense. When I get a chance I'll go through the old chapters and fix this error. That's what I get for not having a beta, I suppose.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. **The Call of the Blood and the concepts associated with it – as a package, not as individual elements - are my creations, not the creations of JK Rowling – please email me if you wish to use them or a derivative of them in a story. **

Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_**This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 23

---

"Well, Ginny's leaving in the afternoon to go to the Burrow. So we thought we'd get together this morning before she left."

"And is Potter accompanying her to the Weasleys for the holidays?" Hermione nodded in response and Severus closed his eyes, apparently savoring the moment. "The best news I've heard all day."

"It's the only news you've heard all day, Severus," Hermione commented dryly, glancing across the table at her husband. He was still in his sleep trousers, chest bare, hair rumpled slightly and his eyes weary. _Well, _she acknowledged, _it's not like either of us got much sleep last night. _Unfortunately, their lack of sleep was attributed to normal end-of-term insanity rather than anything more enjoyable. _For the most part, at least_, she thought with a smile.

The fall term was over, finally. That afternoon, those students returning home for the holidays would leave on the Hogwarts Express. Aside from a notable few, of course. Some parents insisted on picking up their children personally, and with the current state of the war Hermione didn't blame them. Harry and Ginny would be returning to the Burrow with the Weasleys, and from what Severus had indicated Lucius would be coming for Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle that afternoon as well. It was an excellent subterfuge for the elder Malfoy - of course the Ministry's "spy" would be concerned for the safety of his son and his son's close friends.

Grinning as she took a ship of her tea, Hermione said offhandedly, "But he won't be staying the entire time. He'll be back the day after Christmas." As expected, Severus scowled. "It'll be easier that way, for the Order meetings." Severus just grunted noncommittally. He had been against taking even a week's break from their regular Order meetings, but he had been overruled. Their own research would continue, of course. They had already found a number of promising spells and rituals in the Book of the Blood – the real problem now was narrowing down the most likely suspects.

And deciding when, and what, to tell Harry.

* * *

The lake shimmered in the cold morning light, ripples raised by the wind and creatures swimming beneath the surface sparkling. Hermione stood, mesmerized, for long moments before the young woman beside her spoke.

"It's beautiful, isn't it? This was always his favorite time of the year."

Hermione nodded. She could remember… the excitement in blue eyes as the Christmas holidays drew near, the coaxing words he used to persuade herself and Harry to follow him outside for a snowball fight or some other silly activity. So full of life… they all had been. She felt like a different person now, older, wiser… darker. Something in her chest twisted and she blinked back tears as she recalled Harry's words in the Head Girl's rooms, when he had first heard of her impending marriage to Professor Snape.

_When did it change? When did it all stop being a game? When did the thing I was most worried about change from having detention to having my friends get murdered? When did it become _this_?_

She shook her head slightly. _When did it become this, indeed. _Summoning a small smile, she turned to Ginny. "I remember… he was always so excited when the holidays came. I guess all students are, though, really."

Ginny's eyes remained fixed on the lake's surface as she shook her head slowly. "No… not all students. Tom called it the empty days… he hated it. Hated when school was out."

Hermione frowned. "But… well, I know he hated the orphanage, from what you and Harry said… but he stayed here at Hogwarts during the breaks, didn't he? Except for the summer break, of course."

Ginny nodded. "He did… but none of his friends did. It just made him stand out even more – the other Slytherins were mostly purebloods, you know… they always went home. Came back with stories of all the gifts they'd gotten… he hated it."

"Oh. I guess he wasn't too fond of Easter, either, then."

Ginny snorted. "Hardly. He called the spring break the hollow days."

Hermione let out a breath and lowered herself to sit on the ground. It was hard and cold, but thankfully free of snow. "It's so strange… when I saw them all… to realize they're people, too. Just regular people in so many ways. Even the Dark Lord… he was a boy once, embarrassed to not be like the other students… it's so strange to think of him that way."

"I know." Ginny sat down beside Hermione, arranging her cloak carefully around her feet. "I'm glad… I'm glad you understand. Remus did, to a point… but not really, I think. Tom was… he was evil even then, yes. But also human – I could sense his emotions, feelings… images, like I said. And it's hard to just… to just write him off like that. Hard to think of what he became."

Hermione stared at the ripples. The Great Squid lifted one lazy tentacle out of the water; droplets falling from it glinted mischievously in the sunlight. She smiled as the tentacle disappeared once more. The smile faded as she said, "It's hard… it's hard because we see something in them that is the same as we are. And it's scary, to think that but for some choices here or there, we could do the same things. Follow the same path. Perform the same evils..." Hermione's voice trailed off and she swallowed heavily. _Each step seems but a small one, __until you have descended so far that that you can no longer see the light for the depth of the pit you are in. And then… only then… do you realize what you have done._

"Exactly," Ginny whispered. Suddenly the redhead shook her head and smiled wryly. "I'm sorry, Hermione… I've just had Tom on the mind lately."

"What do you mean, Ginny?"

The redhead averted her eyes. "Dreams. Memories. I can't seem to close my eyes without having them… maybe because it's the year, you know? Harry's final year… I just can't imagine Tom won't try to-" her lips twisted "-Voldemort, that is. Can't imagine he won't try to make some grand show this year, before Harry graduates."

"It makes sense… with Lavender's prophecy…"

"Right. And Harry... well, he's been having more dreams, too." Hermione shot the younger witch a curious look. Ginny shrugged. "He didn't want to worry you, said you had enough going on. Anyway, he says they're just anxiety dreams, not the… the other kind. Like mine, I'm sure… memories, stress dreams."

Hermione nodded. "I had them too – memory dreams. When Severus is there, though-" She stopped and shrugged wordlessly. Ginny nodded with a small smile.

"I know… when Dean's around I don't have mine, either."

Hermione raised her eyebrows theatrically. "Indeed, Miss Weasley? And is this something I should be hearing? Your sordid tales of after-hours canoodling?"

At that, Ginny leaned her head back and clear peals of laughter burst from her. "Oh… oh, Gods, Hermione… _canoodling_? You sound like Madam Pince!"

Hermione also laughed but sobered quickly when a thought occurred to her. "Ginny… Dean's a Muggleborn. What-"

Ginny averted her eyes. "I know. As soon as my birthday comes I'm going to put in a contract on him. So far, we've been lucky."

Hermione felt a pang. She had been so consumed with her own situation that she hadn't spared more than a passing thought for the other Muggleborn students in similar situations. Classmates. And former classmates. She had been aware, of course, that other Muggleborn students had taken their NEWTs early and married – most of them, luckily, to people they were already involved with.

The thought that Ginny may have something else taken from her as a result of this despicable law… it was almost more than Hermione could take. Her throat dry, she said, "What if a pureblood puts a contract on him before your birthday?"

Ginny sighed. "I'll ask my parents for permission to put a contract in on my behalf, I suppose. It's not likely to come to that, but you never know."

"What do they think about you putting in a contract on your birthday?"

Ginny shifted uncomfortably. "I… well, I haven't told them. But I think Mum knows."

Hermione was about to respond when she heard the snap of a twig behind them. Before she could turn, a low voice – or was it two voices? – said, "_Stupefy_."

Everything went dark.

* * *

Hermione was floating, dreaming… The blond man told her things… S_tand up… Don't say anything…Follow us…_

Of course, why not, a voice in the back of her head thought agreeably as she followed the two young men into the school and to a deserted classroom. No need to remain lying on the floor, no need to speak, no reason not to follow these two…

It felt as though her mind was blank. A small nagging doubt appeared at regular intervals, trying to tell her that this wasn't _normal - _not normal and not _good - _but she paid it no heed. She couldn't focus on anything.

She could hear the two young men talking.

"Do you have it?"

"Of course I do, you idiot. It's right here."

"Oh. All right." A pause. "Just remember, don't go too far with this, the Dark Lord-"

"I'm well aware of what the Dark Lord said, Goyle. I'm not about to risk my position, and my father's position, over some Mudblood."

"I know you won't mean to, Draco, but sometimes… I've seen you. You go wild."

"Just worry about yourself, Goyle. All I need to do is show her what's in this, and everything will be fine."

Briefly she wondered what they were talking about, but the thought just skittered across the fog in her mind… it was so relaxing, just to float, not thinking, not feeling… no responsibility, the pressure off of her, no decisions to be made… so relaxing…

"Sit. Look in here, Granger."

Hermione sat. Then she stopped. Granger? She didn't know any Granger around… she used to be one of those, but not any more… she kept floating, waiting for her next order… a small voice in the back of her head was screaming, but she didn't know why. Why wouldn't it stop screaming? Why couldn't it just relax?

"It must be wearing off. _Imperio!_"

Ah, that was better… the voice was gone… she was floating again…

"Draco, she's not Granger anymore, maybe that's why she didn't-"

"Right." That sounded angry… "Now be quiet, Goyle. Hermione, look in the Pensieve. You need to see this. Then I'll take the _Imperius_ off you and we'll have a little chat. We're your friends."

Hermione found herself nodding, but the small, irritating voice was back… _Friends? You're not my friends! _Oh, but what did that silly voice know? Of course they were her friends… she was relaxed, floating, it was so nice… they had to be her friends…

Tilting her head down, she looked into the Pensieve.

About ten minutes later, she sat, still floating, her mind unable or unwilling to think about the images she had seen in the milky bowl. Her husband, her dead friend… a knife… blood… a single stab wound in his chest… _Something _about that didn't seem right, but before she could capture the thought she was floating once more. A small voice told her she should think about what she saw, that she should resist this floating… but why? It was so nice, to float…

"You think Vincent took care of the Weasley girl all right?"

"Of course. I gave him specific instructions – by now she's _Obliviated_ and back in her common room."

Hermione felt the corners of her mouth turn up as she reveled in the relaxation… and then the small voice in her head began growing louder and louder… demanding to be heard… and it pounded against her awareness… _You think Vincent took care of the Weasley girl all right?_

_The Weasley girl… Obliviated…_

The voice was no longer small, it was huge, pounding at her, driving it home… the danger, her friend… _Oh, Gods!_

_Ginny!_

"No!" Hermione flung herself from the chair, feeling as though cold water had been thrown over her. Instinctively, she reached for her wand and whirled to face Draco and Goyle, wand drawn. The images from the Pensieve invaded her now-clear mind and her hand began to tremble. _Lucius, of course, was Severus… but who played Ron? Some unfortunate Muggle, maybe? _

The look on Goyle's face was one of pure awe. "She broke it… she broke your _Imperius_, Draco…"

"So I see." Draco eyed her warily. "Now, calm down, Grang-"

"Snape!"

Draco's twisted angrily before he forced it into an expression of regret. "I'm so sorry, Hermione… I know you didn't realize that he had a part in it; you thought we were trying to trick you before. But now you know, don't you? You saw him in the Pensieve… you saw what he did."

Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously. Goyle tensed in front of her and she froze, her mind working. While she could overpower one of them with little trouble, two would be a difficulty. Perhaps she should play along a bit… Forcing her face into confusion, she stammered, "I… I did. Why… why should I believe you, though? What if-"

"Hermione, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to show it to you, but you didn't believe our first warnings… we didn't want to show you this until the very last, it's so painful to look at it, I didn't want you to have to see your boyfriend like that." Hermione carefully kept her expression steady. So, Draco didn't know that she had been with Harry when Ron was found… How idiotic. She knew the cuts were different. The lines of blood on his body, the razor-thing splitting of his skin… the patterns had been different from the single stab wound she saw in the Pensieve. Very different. "I know you trusted Snape, and there's no real reason to trust me, but this isn't a trick. He… Snape… he led the group that attacked Weasley. I know what Weasley meant to you-"

Hermione couldn't hear any more over the rush of blood in her ears. She barely held back a scream of rage… _You know what he meant to me? You bastard! You fucking bloody bastard… murderer… you'll pay. You will pay._

She raised her wand, lightning quick, and with all the anger and rage in her heart, with all the anger and rage roiling in her blood, hissed, "_Crucio!_" She felt the wave of power course through her, feeding the raw core of energy, making her blood sing… she felt it flow into her wand…

…and then she felt her wand _die _somehow and…

…nothing happened.

The power was absorbed, or changed… Cursing inwardly, she recalled the conversations she had had with Minerva and Severus about using Dark spells with a unicorn hair core wand. How foolish could she have been, to forget that! How foolish-

"_Expelliarmus!_"

The air was knocked out of her and her wand flew from her grip. She landed hard against the stone wall and slid down a ways before her knees caught her. Her blood boiled… the red haze grew in the corners of her eyes and with a feral growl she launched herself at Draco before he could react. Goyle stood by, his mouth open in confusion… neither man had expected a physical attack.

She felt a deep satisfaction as her nails raked Draco's cheek, blood welling up from the wounds even as she grabbed his wrist with her other hand and twisted it hard… his grip loosened in his surprise and his wand clattered to the floor. She cursed savagely - she had planned to wrest the wand from him, not make him drop it! The weak fool must have been so surprised by her attack that his hand went limp. Growling, she kicked the wand to the far corner of the room and then, spying her own wand on the floor not ten paces from them, dove after it.

Draco's reflexes were quicker than hers by a hair. He tackled her from behind, wrapping his arms around her legs and causing her to topple to the floor heavily.

"Goyle!" Draco bit out even as he grabbed Hermione's ankle and dragged her back, farther away from the wand. She kicked out with both feet, catching his shoulder with one heel, causing him to grimace in pain. He grabbed both of her ankles then, his fingers crushing against the bones.

From the corner of her eyes, Hermione could see Goyle's face go pale. "Draco! What are you- stop! Hold it back – control it, man!"

"I… I can't…" His cold eyes had grown heated, wild… Hermione knew the Call was raging in him. "I don't _want_ to control it. I deserve _something _for all of this…" Draco's eyes narrowed and Hermione felt the skin of her back scrape against uneven stone as he yanked her across the floor. Her robes dragged along the floor, pulled up by the friction, and as Draco swept his eyes across her she felt a wave of fear… she was outnumbered, unarmed, and perilously close to being at least partially unclothed.

Goyle reached out and grabbed Draco's shoulder, yanking him back. "Damn it, Draco – this is stupid! You're out of control; this wasn't the plan! I know your linkage is stronger than mine, but Gods – get a hold of yourself!" As he spoke, Hermione took the opportunity to kick the blond man in the face – it was a glancing blow due to the awkward angle but it served its purpose. He released her ankles and brought both hands to his face as she scrambled backwards and stumbled to her feet. She headed for her wand, escape the farthest thing from her mind… the red haze was too strong, obscuring her vision… revenge… blood… _He will pay. I will make him pay_…

Then she heard a shout behind her. "Sod the plan! What's one more _Obliviate_?" And then she was knocked to the ground, her head banging the stone sharply… she rolled over and kicked out, smiling when she heard the painful grunt. Before she could take advantage of the successful contact, two hands dug into her thighs, holding her legs down by force. A scorching heat… the blood mark… And then…

"Stop it, Draco! This isn't some Muggle raid-" Goyle grabbed Draco's arm, pulling him away once again. Glancing at her, Goyle's jaw dropped. "Oh, Merlin… oh, Merlin… get away, Draco – we gotta go… she's marked! _Snape marked her_!"

Hermione watched as stark fear overcame the rage and bloodlust on Draco's face, the sight helping to quell the rising Call in her own blood. He shoved himself backwards, away from her, and stumbled to his feet. As she staggered to her feet and retrieved her wand Draco kept his eyes on her at all times, even as he raced to the corner where his own wand lay. His breathing was heavy and ragged, loud in the unnaturally quiet room. She could hear him rambling in a low, fearful voice, "Oh, Gods… no… Snape… marked her… but she's a Mudblood!"

"Come on, Draco, I told you not to touch her! We got to get out of here!"

The door opened with a crash.

"Too late." The words were silk laden with ice.

Hermione had her wand gripped tightly in her hand. "_Stupefy_," she said coolly, at the exact same time as Severus cast a spell of his own. Goyle was covered in a familiar set of black cords, while Draco was slumped down on the floor, unconscious from her spell.

The adrenaline left her and she backed up until her shoulders hit stone. Her limbs shaking, Hermione slid down the wall to the floor, heedless of the way her robes caught against the rough stone. She stared at her bare knees blankly.

Severus was before her almost immediately, and when she raised her head she could see that he must have left their rooms in a hurry indeed – underneath his cloak his shirt wasn't even fully buttoned. Goyle's whimpering was the only sound in the room. Severus crouched down in front of her, the movement causing his shirt to gape open. She began to shiver when she saw the hilt of a blade sticking out from her husband's belt.

"Are you hurt?" His voice was now steel. Through the bond she could feel rage, anger… laced with a small amount of fear and something else she couldn't identify…

She shook her head quickly. "No… not really… he didn't… it wasn't their intent, at least. They wanted to fool me again – the Pensieve, the hair… trying to make me think you killed Ron… but then the Call took him… they Stunned Ginny and me… Goyle kept his wits, but I got Draco's wand away and-" She stopped at the confused expression on Severus' face. Realizing that she was babbling, and in a most incoherent manner, she clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. "I'm glad you came."

"It appears you had things well in hand when I arrived." Severus quickly unfastened his cloak and covered her with it, leaving him in just his partially buttoned shirt. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the scar over his breastbone. He tenderly ran a finger along her jaw and then stopped suddenly, his darkening alarmingly. "Blood. They did hurt you." She was confused for a moment until she remembered her head striking the floor when Draco tackled her.

"I thought… didn't you feel it through the mark?" She glanced down at her right thigh, where his hand – along with his gaze - had drifted. The mark still burned into her flesh with a vivid heat, and the heat was steadily growing more intense as Severus stared at her leg. "Severus? What are you…" Her voice trailed off when she realized he hadn't moved his eyes from her blood mark… she could sense the waves of fury, now red-hot, seeping from him. "What-" she looked down, following his gaze, and inspected the mark closely. _Oh, Gods… _ Purple marks… in the shape of fingers… on her inner thigh. She had always bruised easily. She brought her eyes up to meet his and shuddered at the pure rage revealed in the black depths.

"Who did this? Which one of them touched you?" _Which one of them touched you…_ she knew exactly what he meant by that and swallowed hard, unable to respond. But when her eyes flicked to Draco he knew the answer. Severus stood, and she recoiled slightly from the dangerous look in his eye. Turning to face Draco, who was still Stunned in the corner, he pulled his wand out and hissed, "_Ennervate_." Released from the spell, Draco blinked a couple of times before he seemed to remember where he was – and what his current situation was.

Draco scrabbled frantically backwards while Severus advanced on him with slow, measured steps.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Draco's wand, which she hadn't even noticed him holding, flew from the blond man's hand as he was flung against the wall. She could see the tension in the muscles of Severus' back, the rigid way he moved, and knew that retribution would be swift…

_When emotions are high, it is difficult to control._

Like a striking snake, one hand reached out and gripped Draco around the neck, pulling him off the floor and slamming him onto one of the tables. The wood creaked under the weight, and Draco's eyes never left Severus'… until Severus reached into his belt and pulled out the dagger that was sheathed there. The long white blade glinted dangerously in the candlelight, and Draco's eyes widened. They widened even more when Severus brought the blade to his own pale chest and drew a thin line of blood across his breastbone, not removing his gaze from the young man pinned on the table. _Oh, Gods_… it was right underneath the scar that was already there… the scar from the blood ritual he had performed when he killed his father… and then he spoke, his voice hard and colder than she'd ever heard it before.

"Payment offered. Blood accepted."

"No, please! Please! No!" the young blond man began to shriek. A sick feeling twisted Hermione's gut… she recognized the beginning of the ritual, all too well… _Payment offered. Blood accepted._ The Call… the Blood Rites… Severus raised the knife slowly, Draco's screams becoming incoherent as he sobbed and pleaded for mercy. The scene was so surreal, it seemed as if she were watching a slow-motion movie.

_The payment must be fulfilled, when the words are spoken._

A shout from Goyle brought the reality of the situation back to her. A scream tore from her own throat as the possible consequences of this act finally penetrated her awareness. "No! No, Severus! They'll put you in Azkaban! Don't!"

Severus paused when he heard her cry, not looking at her. He was breathing hard, and his eyes darkened even more as he contemplated the man beneath him. His body trembled with the attempt to control the Call, and Hermione's fists clenched in her lap, willing him to succeed, to control it... Draco's screams and shrieks still rang through the room, tears and mucous draining from eyes and nose. _Oh, Gods_… it was too late… he'd already begun the ritual… the Call was too strong… she could feel it raging in him… uncontrollable…

_It is difficult, to resist it. Extremely difficult. It is possible to… simply draw the blood of the other, instead – without taking the man's life. But it takes a great deal of will. _

"Please, Severus!!" Hermione sobbed desperately. Frantically trying to think of something to say that would get through to him, that would cut through the blood urge, she cried out, "Don't leave me! You can't leave me!" His muscles twitched at her words, and she felt a surge of hope.

"Which hand did you touch her with? Which hand touched my mark?" Severus asked in a cold hiss, his lips barely moving. Draco just continued pleading, and Severus gripped his neck harder. "Which hand?" he thundered.

"Th- the l-l-left…" Draco stammered, tears of fear and pain spilling from his eyes as he struggled to breathe through the mucous filling his nose.

"Blood calls to blood. Blood must be answered." Severus raised the knife high above the blond man before shifting his other hand from the man's neck to his left wrist.

Draco's scream and Hermione's scream mingled together as Severus brought the knife down in a powerful movement too quick for the eye. Hermione's eyes clenched shut at the sound of the knife biting through bone and tissue, and then the dull thunk as it drove into the wooden table beneath. Draco's screams changed in pitch, now shrieking terror-filled screams of pain as he stared at the hilt of the knife that pinned his hand to the table below.

Severus had driven the knife straight through the boy's palm with such force that the hilt was still trembling slightly and the end of the blade, its cold white surface now tarnished with blood, emerged from beneath the table at least two inches. Hermione shook, her stomach roiling as she tried desperately to keep from retching. Her mind frantically tried to calculate the power necessary to drive a dagger through bone and sinew and then through a two-inch layer of wood…_Oh, Gods…_

Flicking his wand in Goyle's direction, he released the young man from his bonds. Goyle seemed frozen in place as Severus turned his back on the screaming blond man, moving quickly back to her side with concern on his face. He touched her cheek tenderly and she stared, transfixed, at his neck… where a few drops of Draco's blood had spattered. Her eyes moved down to the long line of blood on his chest, almost perfectly parallel to the thin white scar across his breastbone. She began to tremble violently at the realization of what had almost happened… at the realization of what _did_ happen… and he murmured gentle words to her, bringing his arms around her in a tight, comforting embrace. And, to her surprise, she did relax against him.

Her mind swirled from it all: the reality of what had almost happened, the screams from the boy still pinned to the table, and then the spinning of the room around her as she was lifted from the floor and carried to the doorway. Just before stepping into the corridor, he turned and spoke to Goyle. "Tend to your friend. Lucius will be here shortly." Goyle nodded mutely.

Severus cast quick Disillusionment charms over them both and strode through the corridors. He was holding her securely, tenderly… as he walked swiftly back to their rooms, he shifted her enough to press his lips against her hair.

_Merlin… how is this the same man? How can the same man have two such opposing sides? He drove that knife straight through Draco's… Oh, Gods… _Her mind tried to wrap itself around the enigmatic man's behavior… trying to reconcile the images of him gently holding her, comforting her… with the images of his face, cold and hard, full of fury, as he drove the ceremonial dagger into a young man's hand and through two inches of wood. _The hand that he had touched her with…_

The Dark never truly leaves you… it is always a part of you…the Call can be resisted, but not at all times…

* * *

A/N: Well – I hope you enjoyed the chapter! This was another tough one to write, so I hope it came out okay. Please read and review!!! I appreciate any and all feedback. I apologize once again for not having the time to answer reviews individually – I have a sick toddler at home and this chapter was barely finished in time as it was… and now I'm going to sleep!


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. **The Call of the Blood and the concepts associated with it – as a package, not as individual elements - are my creations, not the creations of JK Rowling – please email me if you wish to use them or a derivative of them in a story. **

Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_**This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 24

-----------

"I know it is difficult, but you must try to resist it, Hermione. Promise me…"

"I…" Hermione swallowed. "I will try, but-"

"Good," he said abruptly, standing from his chair.

Sighing, she sank back into the couch and watched him silently, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts from the morning's events. After he returned them to their chambers, he had turned on her in a rage, demanding to know why she had been walking about alone and, as he put it, offering herself up as a victim too tempting to ignore. She had sat up wildly, close to hysteria as she tried to tell Severus about Ginny and what Draco had said. Severus quickly contacted Dumbledore and, after some quick checks by Minerva and Madam Pomfrey, it had been determined that Crabbe had, thankfully, followed his orders explicitly. Ginny had been _Obliviated_ and left outside the Gryffindor Common Room. As Ginny remembered it, she and Hermione had had a short talk and then parted ways so that Ginny could return to pack.

It had been decided not to inform the young witch of the true situation. Hermione had no idea what story they had told the redhead to explain why her Head of House and Hogwarts' Mediwitch had raced into Gryffindor tower to find her and question her about her morning activities. At any rate, Ginny and Harry were now at the Burrow and safely away.

After some fierce talks with Dumbledore that afternoon, it had also been decided not to punish any of those involved. While that decision would have normally raised Hermione's righteous ire, she accepted the necessity of it. Though Lucius wouldn't likely be pleased, the blond man would not be able to argue that Severus acted with the utmost of restraint in delivering Malfoy's punishment, and the Dark Lord would be pleased at Severus' decision to keep the information from reaching Dumbledore's ears. His loyalty to the cause would be, once again, proven.

She shook her head slightly. Severus seemed able to turn any situation around to benefit him and his standing with the Death Eaters…

…even their marriage. His words from what seemed so long ago came back to her:

_This is the best solution for you. The possibility that it may raise me higher in the Circle is an added benefit only. A perk, if you will._

And what a perk it had been for him. He had wrung ever possible benefit from their marriage, twisted around the Malfoy's attempts at destroying her trust, and had even caused her to fall in love with him. A strange feeling twisted her stomach. She was fairly sure he felt… _something_… for her, but the way he went from hot to cold… she was confused by him, more often than not. She didn't think it was all an act, but how would she know? The man was obviously a master manipulator.

But… he had said he trusted her. And it had been so raw, so open, so simple a statement, that she knew in her heart that it was the truth.

So, he trusted her. And he felt _something _for her. She just wished… _Don't be stupid, Hermione. You knew what you were getting into, _she chastised herself. She had never expected him to _want _to be with her… but that was before she fell in love with him.

She snapped out of her reverie when Severus began speaking again. His voice was strangely harsh. "I have said this before, but it bears repeating – use your stubbornness. The Call will push you to cast Avada Kedavra, or to perform the… the Blood Rites."

The Blood Rites. _Payment offered, Blood accepted. _Severus had been so close… so close to completing them… and then had stopped. Because of her. The twisting feeling in her stomach eased, smoothing out and calming.

"You were able to resist it, Severus… I saw you… I know how much the Call was demanding… I could _feel _it through the bond," she whispered.

Severus turned his head from her, the lank black hair falling across his face, obscuring his eyes. "It was touch and go, with Draco. If you hadn't…" His voice trailed off and he turned back to face her. "Still, it would not have had the same dire consequences for me. The Call is already a part of me, completely. For you, it would complete the linkage."

"But, Severus… the Blood Rites… if the battle comes, and Moody won't do it, someone else-"

"No." Severus stood up straight, his posture strict and intimidating. She scowled at this attempt to pull the Potions Master persona on her. "If Moody does not consent to perform the Blood Rites, then I will. But do keep in mind that prophecies are cryptic and we may be misreading its intent."

"I don't see how," she snapped.

One eyebrow raised, he stared at her mockingly. "The golden brain can't think of any alternate meanings? Who is to say that the Blood Rites must be performed on the Dark Lord? Did you think of that, my young wife?"

She stopped and frowned. It was possible…

He smirked at her discomfiture. "Precisely." He flicked his fingers dismissively. "And, you will not be there, Hermione, so this entire discussion is immaterial."

"WHAT?" Hermione shrieked. He couldn't be saying it… there was no way… abruptly, she felt _something _through the bond, some indescribable emotion… then it was gone.

"You will be far from the battle if I have my way."

_If he has his way??_ Her internal musing over the mysterious emotion she was sensing ended as her anger flared once again. "And if you _don't_ have your way?" she demanded, standing from the couch, her hands curled into fists.

Severus stepped close to her, so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. He watched her silently for a moment, and through the bond that questionable emotion raged once again. The silence stretched, while he did nothing other than stare down at her with those unreadable black eyes. Her anger ebbed as she once again tried to identify what the emotion could be… determination, maybe? Protectiveness? Something else? And then her breath caught as his expression changed into one more familiar to her.

"I _always_ have my way," he said in that low, silky voice… that damned sexy voice… and she knew, even before she felt his arm wind around her waist and pull her tightly to him, that she had lost that battle.

-----

True to their agreement, Minerva and Hermione left for Diagon Alley early on the first Monday of the holidays. They met in the Great Hall for breakfast, where Hermione received a frantic owl letter from Harry. She chuckled as she read it and quickly sent off her response.

"Something amusing from Mr. Potter?" Minerva asked. Hermione grinned.

"He realized that he had no idea what to buy Ginny and Molly… he says he wants a woman's opinion for his shopping trip."

Minerva laughed. "Well, you can certainly handle that, I think. Those two will love anything Mr. Potter gets for them."

Hermione smiled. "Oh, I know, but you know how Harry is."

"Indeed I do." Minerva wiped her mouth and raised an eyebrow at Hermione. "So – are you ready?" Hermione grinned and nodded, and they were on their way.

Four hours later, Hermione was exhausted. Minerva was a true shopper, not something she would have expected from the older witch, and she said as much.

Minerva laughed. "Oh, you should have seen me when I was your age! This is nothing. Why, we even passed over a few shops, Hermione." Hermione looked around dully and saw that they were in front of Flourish and Blotts. And, with clarity, she realized that she had a perfect opportunity to take care of something that she had been thinking about since her failed attempt at _Crucio _two days before. The bookstore was easy to lose yourself in, and easy to lose another person in. She might have just enough time to dart down to Ollivander's with Minerva none the wiser…

"Minerva – do you mind if we pop in the bookstore for a while? I've got some things to look for… I'm not sure how long it will take me…"

Minerva smiled in anticipation. "Of course, Hermione – why did you think I stopped here? Take your time, I have a bit of browsing to do, also." Hermione smiled. Minerva's idea of a _bit of browsing, _as Hermione had discovered, was at least an hour's worth of intense shopping.

A very short time later, Hermione – with Disillusionment charm in place – slipped from the bookstore and quickly made her way to Ollivander's. She entered the store quietly, not wanting to disturb the strange wizard as he bent over a wand on his worktable.

"Ah. Hello, Mrs. Snape." She startled a bit – he hadn't even looked up from his work.

"Mr. Ollivander… how did you know it was me?"

The eerie, moon-like eyes lifted from the desk and squinted at her. With an irritated twist of his mouth, he flicked his wrist and released his wand, pointing it at her. She stepped back in confusion, grasping her own wand, knowing it would be too late.

_"Finite Incantatum." _

She felt the cool slide of the Disillusionment charm as it fell from her, grinning inwardly at her own foolishness. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr.-"

"Yes, yes. You wanted to know, did you now, how I knew it was you? Like calls to like, young woman. You will be able to do the same, eventually. The affinity… you'll feel it."

"The… affinity? What-"

"Your time is limited, is it not? And I believe you have a request for me, perhaps." He eyed her shrewdly. "Or perhaps not?"

Hermione shook her head. The man was almost as cryptic as Trelawney. "Um… yes. Yes I did. I…" She took a deep breath. "I need a new wand."

Ollivander nodded. "Did yours get stepped on by a hippogriff? Broken in a duel? Dropped in a corrosive potion?"

Hermione frowned. "Um… no. Do you – you remember what you said, when I-"

"Of course I do, young woman. Sit there for a moment," he said, pointing at the stool on the other side of his worktable. Wordlessly, she sat and watched as he moved around in the back room, sometimes disappearing from her sight as he gathered boxes in his arms. "Here," he said, opening the first box. "Give it a try."

She took the wand from him, noting that it was the exact same as her current wand – aside from the core, of course. "_Lumos_." A flicker of light, but nothing more.

"Hmm. How about… this one?"

Another wand that appeared to be identical to her own. She looked at Mr. Ollivander questioningly, but he just gestured for her to continue. With a slight shrug, she obeyed his tacit command.

After three more tries, and three more identical wands, she felt a warmth flow through her and the light was strong and steady – and even brighter than any she had been able to achieve with her current wand. "Ah, yes. Ash. Nine and a half inches. Dragon heartstring core… very good."

"This is perfect, Mr. Ollivander. How much-" She stopped speaking then and cursed herself. She hadn't enough Galleons with her for a wand, and she couldn't have the cost taken from their Gringott's account by the shop… the ledger would show the transaction, and Severus would know what she had done. "But he can't know…" she whispered unconsciously. She would just have to come back another time… but when would she have an opportunity like this again? Especially now, after Draco's attack… Severus was even more protective of her than he had been before.

"Indeed. That does make things a bit more rocky, doesn't it, Mrs. Snape?" Mr. Ollivander eyed her silently. She bit her lip and nodded, moving to place the wand back into the box. His old, thin hand stopped her, and she glanced up in surprise. "Tell me, Mrs. Snape. Tell me why you need the new wand. I don't sense the Call's full presence in you. Your link is not complete. So… why do you seek to complete it?"

She stared at him for a few long heartbeats, torn. Finally, she decided to tell him as much as she could without giving specifics. She looked down at the wand, seeing her fingers curled around it, seeing his thin fingers wrapped around her hand… and took a deep breath.

"There's something… something that he might be called on to do, but that he can't do… because if he does this thing, it would result in his… in his death. So, if it comes to that, I need to be ready… I need to be ready to do it for him. But if he finds out that I've prepared for this, he will… well, he won't be happy. And he may keep me from what I… from what I need to do." Hermione looked directly at the old wand maker. In a whisper, she said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Ollivander, but I can't be more specific than that."

Ollivander stared at her in silence for a long time, during which she had to mentally restrain herself from fidgeting. Apparently seeing something satisfactory in her gaze, he nodded brusquely. "Take it. Go."

Hermione gaped at him, her fingers loosening their grip on the wand. "I'm… I'm sorry? What-"

Ollivander brought both hands up and gently curled her fingers back around the warm wood, then released her from his grip. "Go, young woman. The wand is yours." She stood slowly as he gestured her rudely out the door. Opening her mouth to protest his generosity once again, he shook his head. "Severus is an old friend. I have an idea of what you speak, and if I am right… Just go, young woman."

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander." He nodded curtly once again and sat back at his worktable, making it obvious that he considered the transaction complete. She had turned and pushed open the door when she heard his voice behind her.

"Hermione." She froze in shock. He had used her given name… she didn't even realize he _knew _her given name!

"Mr. Ollivander?" He didn't reply at first, and she shifted restlessly. She still had plenty of time to return to Flourish and Blotts before Minerva began to look for her, but she didn't want to tarry long.

"_Be ready_."

------

Wednesday evening, Severus was Summoned.

Hermione stared at him as he pulled the deep black robes from the wardrobe, even more concern showing in her eyes than usual, though he had reassured her multiple times over the past days that he expected no negative reaction to his handling of the Malfoy situation.

When he stalked across the room to retrieve the Portkeys, he heard her vainly attempt to contain a sniffle. Sighing to himself, he firmly suppressed his annoyance and turned to face her. "Hermione – calm yourself. This is the normal meeting time for the Inner Circle, as I told you. There will probably be another this week, with the full group."

She nodded doubtfully as she stepped closer to him. He enfolded her in his arms and sighed at the feel of her body against his. Perhaps the meeting would be short tonight…

"Severus, I-" Her voice was strangely hesitant and he tensed. Perhaps she felt it, because she continued in a stronger tone, "Be careful."

"I will. Floo Albus." He kissed her softly on the top of her head and released her. Her eyes, dark brown and shining wet with poorly suppressed emotion, were the last things he saw as he activated the Portkey.

What seemed like only moments later, he knelt on a hard, grainy surface. The location of the meeting appeared to be an abandoned barn of some sort. "My Lord."

"Rise, Severus."

Preparing himself carefully, he stood and met the Dark Lord's eyes. As he let selected images slip out, he quickly informed the Dark Lord of the incident with the young Malfoy. "I was able to keep the old fool from punishing the boys further, my Lord, but it was difficult."

"I see, Severus." Meeting that red gaze took an amazing amount of strength… it was so hard to keep from tearing his eyes away and focusing on something… on _anything… _else. He filled his mind with indignation at the idea of his property being violated, at fear that it would turn her farther from the Dark Lord's path… spinning out a vision of her face as he entered the room… another image of the argument with Dumbledore, persuading him to let the boys go, to not inform the Weasley girl of the events that had occurred…

Suddenly, his mind was released and he rocked back on his heels, breathing heavily. He was aware, now, that the other members of the Inner Circle had appeared while the Dark Lord was examining him. Other members… including Malfoy.

"Very good, Severus. You have pleased me once again."

"I live to serve, my Lord," Severus said, bowing low as he backed away and took his place in the Circle.

The Dark Lord walked along the Circle, staring at each member thoughtfully. He paused in front of Malfoy. "Lucius. Have you any… objections… to the way Severus handled the incident with your son?"

"No, my Lord." Lucius bowed low, his nose almost touching the ground, and Severus sneered behind his mask. _How quickly the mighty have fallen_… He was unsurprised at Lucius' agreement. The blond man had undoubtedly witnessed the Dark Lord's approval, and even without that Severus had been well within his rights to punish the boy as he saw fit. Lucius was lucky that he hadn't been left without an heir. With these thoughts in his head, Severus felt a jolt of shock when Lucius continued speaking. "However, my Lord… I am concerned that Severus has become over-attached to this Mudblood."

Severus sucked in a breath. There was a restless shifting among the other members of the Inner Circle, and he wondered how many others may have had the same thought. Time to dissuade them of that notion.

He laughed.

And he laughed loudly.

The Dark Lord turned to face him. "You have a response to your brother's claim, Severus?"

Severus stepped forward. "My Lord, the Mudblood is simply a way to serve you. And… while she is a delightful diversion at times, I would gladly kill her if it pleased you, my Lord." His palms began to sweat, though he showed no outward reaction.

"But you… you blood marked her! You bound her filthy blood to yours!" Lucius exclaimed, forgetting himself and sitting up to stare at Severus. When the Dark Lord turned back to him he quickly lowered his head to the ground. "My Lord – I only follow your teachings when I say these things."

The Dark Lord laughed coldly. Despite hearing it many times before, Severus felt a chill run up his spine at the sound. "The Mudblood is Severus' possession. He is well within his rights to mark his property, Lucius. And it was fortunate that he did so, as your son was unable to control his Call in her presence. Perhaps I should instead wonder if your heir has become over-attached to the Mudblood?"

"No, no my Lord. Of course not, my Lord. I live to serve. I will gladly die to serve."

The Dark Lord stared at Lucius for several heartbeats. Then he said, "Rise, Lucius. Your concern was not completely out of place. Had I not seen the truth in your brother's eyes, I would have been forced to take measures to correct the situation. As it stands… you will be certain your son appears at the next gathering, Lucius. I wish to… speak… with him."

Lucius bowed his head in acknowledgement. "Yes, my Lord."

"Now. My loyal servants… my Inner Circle. Your recruitment efforts have been fruitful, and I now have a goodly number of followers to keep control once the wizarding world falls under my command." Severus dared not breathe. "The empty days will draw to a close with a fierce battle, and then we will rule the wizarding world and remake it to serve us. Under my leadership. You, who are my Inner Circle, will reap the rewards of this harvest… be prepared. Be ready."

"Yes, my Lord." The Dark Lord disappeared, and Severus stood for a moment, staring at the place where the powerful wizard had been standing.

He heard a hiss next to him. "Be wary, Severus." He nodded slightly, then turned to face the Death Eater standing beside him.

"Brother Rodolphus."

"Brother Severus. Have I told you the latest of Bella's recovery? No? Ah, then, walk with me a ways," Rodolphus said, subtly steering Severus into a more private area in the room. He cast a quick silencing charm to protect against eavesdropping.

Severus raised an eyebrow, though he knew the other man wouldn't be able to see it. "So, Brother, is there any progress with your wife? Or was that entirely part of the subterfuge?"

Rodolphus looked away. "None. I don't believe she will ever regain her full sanity. The Dark Lord himself has tried…" The other man turned back to look at Severus, his eyes glittering mischievously behind the mask. "She is still… what did you say? Oh, yes, a delightful diversion at times."

"Her appetites have not dwindled?"

"Not in the least, friend. Not in the least." Rodolphus shook his head slightly. "But that isn't why I brought you over. Be wary of Lucius. He is not so accepting of your punishment as he seems."

Severus snorted. "That is hardly a surprise." He was startled when the other man grabbed his arm.

"Severus – listen to me. He means to have revenge. Narcissa came to visit Bellatrix earlier this week. I couldn't overhear everything, but something large is being planned. Against _you _this time, not your Mudblood."

Severus shook his head in disbelief. "Why? Why risk the Dark Lord's wrath?"

Rodolphus dropped his arm and watched Severus silently for a moment. "This part is pure speculation, as I truly know no more… but perhaps he has something to offer the Dark Lord… some information, that will bring you into disfavor." Severus' blood went cold. Could Malfoy have discovered his double agent status? Could _Rodolphus_ suspect him? "I'm not asking, Severus. You are a friend, and have been for many years. But if there is anything that you wish remain hidden, cover your tracks carefully. And strike first."

Severus nodded solemnly. In a carefully controlled voice, he said, "There is nothing to hide, friend, but thank you. I will be wary, and I will be ready to strike first."

"Good. It may be a moot point, if the Dark Lord moves quickly with his plan. Now, we had better mingle." With a quick _Finite Incantatum, _Rodolphus cancelled the silencing charm and smoothly left Severus' side.

-----

"Your loyalty was not called in question, then?"

"No. But he's getting closer to attack readiness, I'm afraid. And…" Severus' voice trailed off. He wasn't sure whether to approach the Headmaster with this yet, but he wasn't sure how much time they may have.

"Yes?"

Severus let out a breath. "The Blood Rites… as we get closer, the more and more I realize… Albus, I am entrusting you to be sure Hermione is taken care of, if I am forced to perform them on the Dark Lord. Can you do that?" Albus watched him with a thoughtful expression, and Severus felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Albus?"

"Moody has spoken to me, Severus. And we have an idea."

"Dear Merlin," Severus groaned under his breath.

"And this entire time, you have played me for a fool. What happened to your assertions that she should be kept from it, for little Harry Potter's sake?"

"She has proven to be most trustworthy," Albus said casually, popping a sweet into his mouth and chewing with relish.

"Yes."

"I will request that she see me tomorrow morning, then."

"Albus – I ask you, don't do this. You can't understand-"

The Headmaster sat forward in his chair. "Relax, child. I will leave the decision completely to her. And it will be a last resort only – Moody is coming around. I think by the time the prophecy is to be realized, he will do what he must." Albus chewed on the sweet for a few moments in silence, and then said, "This is really just one more step farther than she's already agreed to, Severus. And you agreed to have her memorize the spells and rituals that you researched. This is not that much different, is it?"

Severus rose from his chair. "Not that much different? You have no idea what you're asking of her, old man! You didn't pick her up, shaking, sweating, from floor when the Call barely had a toehold on her… just a toehold, Albus! She has no idea – _none _– just how much worse it would be if she completes the linkage!" He began to pace restlessly.

Albus eyed him speculatively. "Why does this matter so much to you, Severus? I know you're fond of the girl, but this seems a bit extreme…"

Severus stopped his pacing and scowled. "What are you getting at old man? Wait – never mind. Did you never think that perhaps I don't want to be trapped in marriage to someone who has succumbed to the Call? That I'm not leaping with joy at the thought of a fully-Call-linked witch sharing my bed?"

Albus stared at him over steepled fingers, his eyebrows raised. Severus shook his head. It wasn't the entire truth, and he realized that Albus knew it for an exaggeration, if not a falsehood. What the entire truth was, Severus had no idea. And this wasn't the appropriate venue to engage in any soul-searching. Thankfully, the older wizard stopped pursuing that line of questioning.

"You were able to resist, Severus. You turned your back on it. She can do the same. You give her too littl-"

"You truly think I've turned my back? It's not possible, Albus… it's always there, beckoning to me. Always… seething… below the surface… it's more seductive than a thousand veelas!"

"But you ignore it. You control it."

A long silence. "Yes." How to explain to this old wizard, just how difficult it was? The effort, to constantly walk that razor's edge… giving the Call just enough to get by, just enough to keep it from rearing up and consuming him?

"She can do the same."

"Or so you hope."

"She may still refuse, Severus. She has that right."

"But she won't."

Albus acknowledged that with a wave of his hand. "True. I hope she will not, at least."

"Albus-"

"Severus – if there's a way to get through this war with Tom Riddle dead and _you _still alive, I will take it! I know you wish to dissuade her, but it may be necessary for her to succumb to the Call, much as you may want to avoid that happening to your young wife."

Severus pursed his lips. "Very well."

"I will speak with her tomorrow. Alone."

Ignoring the Headmaster's unsubtle hint, Severus simply murmured, "Good night, Albus," and left the room.

-----

The Headmaster's request came by owl the next morning. Of course, Hermione shared it with her husband and he stated - without room for argument - that he would accompany her. She looked at him suspiciously but thankfully didn't bother to ask what he knew of the meeting.

"Ah, Hermione – I'm glad you could make it." Albus' eye lost a little of their twinkle when he saw Severus stalk in behind her. "Severus."

"Headmaster." Severus kept his voice neutral. Cold. There would be no absolution for the Headmaster for what he was about to do. Not from him.

Hermione listened carefully, her head cocked to one side, as the Headmaster described his thoughts on the Blood Rites mentioned in the prophecy. Severus had to restrain himself from jumping in while the older wizard spoke, particularly as he saw his wife's resolve solidify on her face. "I will do it."

Severus could no longer hold his tongue. "No. It should not be you, Hermione. Moody-"

"Yes. It _should _be me!" Her eyes brightened as she considered all angles of the suggestion. "They'd never suspect, Severus. It would be perfect…"

"No. I won't allow it."

"_Allow _it?"

Thankfully, Albus cut her off before she could gain momentum. "Calm down, child." Severus relaxed in his chair, only to sit up straight at the Headmaster's next words. "It is a good plan, Severus. She could be our secret weapon. A last resort only, of course."

"No."

"Sev–"

"NO. I was agreeable to her learning the curses, the hexes, the rituals that we found to kill a soul or bind one… but this… this is too far."

"She is strong. She will be able to turn her back on it, as you did."

"As I constantly fight with it? Are you insane?"

"Severus. I. Will. Do. It."

Severus stopped and looked at Hermione. Her eyes were blazing with heat, but he could feel through the bond that she was as much… flattered, perhaps… as angry. His eyes narrowed as he tried to decipher that response.

Hermione stood and walked to him. "I know you want to protect me, Severus. But I want to protect you, also. I can't let you do this. I just can't. I-" She shook her head, the bushy mass of curls swaying. "I… Headmaster. Albus. Yes, I will do it, if it comes to that. Severus." She turned to him, her eyes full of entreaty. "I promise you, I will do it only if the Dark Lord has to be the recipient of the Blood Rites and if Moody refuses… then I will step in." She turned back to face the Headmaster. "Now, I apologize, Headmaster, but I've got to go. Harry is supposed to meet me in a few minutes to go to Hogsmeade."

"Hermione-" Severus began one last attempt to dissuade her, but she cut him off.

"Goodbye, Severus. I'll see you later."

Once the door closed behind her, an uncomfortable silence fell. The two men stared at each other until Severus finally spoke. "Fine, Albus. Obviously your mind is made up. And you've manipulated my wife to follow your lead. Very well." He sneered. "I suppose congratulations are in order. You have, once again, outmaneuvered me, old man."

Albus ignored him. "You must support her in this, Severus, whatever your feelings on the matter. She is doing it to protect you. She will need your guidance."

"My guidance? So far, the only guidance I've given her was to _not _perform the Blood Rites or cast _Avada Kedavra_! And you… _you _were the one who ordered me to do so. _Keep her from the Dark, Severus, at all costs._ Do you remember, Albus?"

Albus sighed, and the ages-old weariness on his face infuriated Severus. How _dare _he be tired? He had no right to be tired! "She is strong."

"Yes. I only hope she's strong enough."

"She will be, Severus." Albus sat back, eyeing Severus strangely. "Child – you know she would choose to do this, with or without my intervention. And you know, in your mind, that this is the only thing to do. This could push the battle to our favor. She started on this path on her own, and… you must admit, she is willing."

"Of course she's willing, Albus. You dangled the one carrot in front of her that you _knew _she couldn't resist! Her loyalty to her friends, to Potter… such a Gryffindor. She's worried about Potter, will protect him regardless of the costs to her."

Albus sat back in his chair and regarded Severus over steepled fingers. "Worried about Harry? Oh, I'm certain. But I think she's more worried about you, Severus. She wants to help so that _you_ will be safe."

Severus muttered an expletive under his breath and stalked to the window, unable to look at the Headmaster any longer.

"It's the truth, Severus."

"I don't want her protection." His hands clenched as he stared out of the window. "I need _her_ to be safe!"

"You will see to it, then."

Severus bowed his head and then turned back to the old wizard sitting at the desk. "Albus…"

"No, son. It's her decision. She will need your guidance, if the linkage is completed."

"And if I fall in the battle?" Severus was shocked at the bitter taste in his mouth as he said the words. Gods, he was growing soft. Scowling, he continued, "Then what will become of her?"

"I suppose you'll just have to make sure you survive, then, won't you Severus?"

Severus stared at the Headmaster before saying words he had said many, many times before. "Damn you, Albus."

But this time, the words were said without heat.

------

Hermione let out a shaky breath as she walked into the Three Broomsticks with Harry. A morning scouring the shops with her friend had helped to calm her after the tense meeting that morning. Uncharacteristically, Harry had seemed sensitive to her mood and hadn't questioned her too much, just asking once if she was all right and if there was anything he could do.

Her friend was maturing.

_To a point, _she amended as she recalled his enthusiasm over the newest tricks on display at Zonko's Joke Shop.

They sat in a booth and Harry grinned at her. "Too bad you were with me, 'Mione. Can't give you any of these trick chocolates now."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "As if I'd eat any chocolates that didn't say Honeydukes on them, Harry. I am a woman of taste, you know."

"Right. A woman of taste? Have you looked at your greasy husband lately?"

Hermione slapped him on the arm playfully. "Quit it, Harry. Now… who are you planning to give the Transfiguration Chocolates to?"

"Can't tell you. You'd warn them."

"Likely true."

"I _know _it's true!"

Rosmerta came with their drinks then and Hermione nodded her thanks while Harry stared unabashedly. "Harry, they're breasts. You've seen them before."

"Those are more than just breasts, Hermione. You clearly have no appreciation for-"

"Clearly," Hermione said dryly. "Now, a word of warning about your chocolates – don't bother giving any to McGonagall. She wouldn't be fooled for a minute – and you know how she is about using Transfiguration as a joke."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said. "That reminds me – how's the apprentice project going? All the younger students are astounded and amazed, I've heard. What are you doing, anyway?"

Hermione cocked her head. "I thought I told you…" At Harry's guilty shrug, she sighed and shook her head. "Well, it's easier to show than to tell. Watch."

She pulled out her wand and sent a cloud of smoke up into the air and then, concentrated hard, Transfigured the smoke into a long rod that she then grabbed and placed in front of Harry on the table. He picked it up in awe. "That's what I'm doing. Except I usually do a sphere in the class. I wasn't able to do magically-generated smoke until the last couple of weeks… once I figured out how the molecules relat-"

"'Mione! You did it… Gods… you really did it! You figured it out!"

Hermione blinked at Harry. "Well, yeah, but I didn't think you'd be _this _excit-"

"You figured it out! The key… stag to blade – the Patronus… it's like a magical smoke, isn't it? You can solid-transfigure it! Into a blade!"

"Oh!" Hermione sat still, her mind whirling as she considered the idea. It sounded… _right. _It sounded right.

Harry sat up, his green eyes shining. "Brilliant! That's got to be the answer, I'm sure of it! I can _feel_ it!"

"All right, _Mr. _Trelawney," she said with a huge smile on her face. "But I think we'll need to test it, still – we can't do that here, in the open. How about when you get back to Hogwarts after Christmas we can try it out."

"Excellent!" They beamed at each other in excitement.

------

When she entered their chambers a couple of hours later, she was surprised to see Severus sitting in the study. He was utterly still, staring into the flames. A dancing pattern of light played on his dark hair, in his black eyes.

"I thought you had a meeting to go to."

"I am leaving for it shortly." He looked at her and took a deep breath. "Hermione – do not do this."

There was no need to ask what he meant. She knew he would want to talk about the decision she had made in Albus' office that morning… and she had been dreading it. Pulling her courage around her, she began, "I have to, Severus–"

All of a sudden, his countenance grew darker. "You meant this all along, didn't you? You had no real intention of resisting the Call, did you?"

"Yes I did! I do, still, Severus. But if Moody won't-"

"Do not lie to me!"

"I'm not lying to you!" She clenched her jaw, holding back her anger with difficulty. _Bastard, bastard, bastard… why can't he see?_

He stood from the chair, a small sneer on his face. "You pretend to care for me, you gain my trust. And then you turn on me-"

"I am NOT turning on you! I'm not doing this to… to _turn _on you! I'm doing this because I love you!"

A thick silence fell, broken only by their heavy breaths. Hermione shivered. She had never said those words since the night of the blood bonding – each time she had tried he had stopped her, and she had come to the realization that he was uncomfortable with the thought - but she _had_ to make him understand. "I… I can't allow you to perform the Blood Rites, Severus. You would die if you performed it on the Dark Lord. I can't… I can't lose you. Don't you see? _I love you_."

For an instant, his eyes seemed to crack open, allowing her to see into his soul… and then the familiar cold mask grew back over his features and his lips tightened. "The young often confuse physical intimacy with emotional intimacy."

She felt as if she had been punched. She stood, gaping at him, for several loud heartbeats before she was able to respond. "You bloody bastard!" she hissed.

"I never pretended to be anything but, my dear. You knew that when you agreed to this marriage," he said with a sneer. Gone was the man who had held her so tenderly – the cold bastard was back. With a vengeance. She had the urge to rake him with her nails, to bite him, to hex him, to do something… _anything… _to make that cold mask go away. Her own rage and hurt were swirling in her so violently that, even if he was in the same state, she wouldn't feel anything through the bond… she wouldn't be able to differentiate their emotions, to separate them into the component parts…

He backed away from her suddenly, perhaps feeling some of her bloodlust through the bond. With a great effort, she clenched her eyes shut and concentrated on calming herself. Finally, she opened her eyes and, in a low voice, said, "I had no choice, Severus. I may have known you were a bastard, but I still had no choice."

Wordlessly he stared at her. Then, turning on his heel, he left their chambers. She heard the door to the corridor slam shut as she sunk to the floor with her face in her hands.

She was seated on the couch, staring blankly at the fire, when he returned from the meeting. Two hours had given her time to calm down, and think over what had been said. When she heard him enter the study, she raised her head. "I'm… I'm sorry, Severus. I shouldn't have called you a bastard. I do apprec-"

"It matters little," he said curtly. The tone of his voice brought the anger and hurt back instantly. She stood and faced him.

"It matters little? _It matters little? _You… so you don't care that I think… that I called you a bastard? Or…" Her eyes narrowed. "Or is it that you don't care about me at all, other than as a pawn to raise you higher in the ranks? I thought you did, but the way you've been acting lately I'm not so sure!"

"This is not the time for this type of discussion, Hermione." Again, that sharp, clipped tone.

"It's the perfect time!" she shouted. His eyes blazed at her… finally, _finally _she had broken through that cold mask.

"There is a war going on, Hermione, while you sit here and worry about playing house!"

She gasped, stung. "Worry about playing house? _Playing house? _Is that what this is to you, Severus? Is that what I am to you? A game? Something to play with, to manipulate, to poke and prod at, just to watch how I react? Some… some experiment in domestic life? Damn it, Severus… so you… so I don't matter to you at all?" His face remained impassive. She hugged her arms across her chest, and closed her eyes, trying to keep from breaking down. "That's it, isn't it? I don't matter to you." Suddenly, she felt a flare of emotion well up that she knew wasn't hers… it had to be coming from the bond… from Severus. Her eyes popped open and she looked at him in surprise.

"You think you don't… _damn it, woman, what do you want me to say_?" He was yelling, his eyes fiercely black in the firelight. "Do you want me to say that I can't live without you, that I want to stay married to you, that I can't imagine being without you, that as I sit in meetings all I can do is wonder how long it will be before I can talk to you, touch you… you want to hear how I admire your courage, your tenaciousness, how you're everything I want in…" He stopped suddenly and grabbed his left arm, wincing slightly as he stared at her. Hermione swallowed, her eyes trapped in his gaze, as his voice lowered to a scathing whisper. "How I'm utterly terrified, as I've never been terrified in my life, of something happening to you? That I _love you_? Is that what you want to hear?"

She shook her head, her chest tight. And she had thought his words from earlier had wounded her… she hadn't known, then, the true meaning of wounding… her heart stopped and tears sprang to her eyes. Determined to keep him from seeing it, she turned away and said, in a voice too thick with tears to do more than whisper, "Only if it was the truth, you bastard. Only if it's the truth."

Through her pain, she felt a strange emotion coming from the bond… that same mysterious one she had felt so many times before. She could hear the soft rustle of his robes as he moved and she clenched her eyes shut, bowing her head, waiting for the slam of the door.

The slam that never came.

Instead, she felt the barest whisper of pressure on her hair, and then she heard the barest whisper in her ear…

"_It is_."

Two words had never meant more… her heart began to beat again even as she froze for a moment. _It is. _She whirled around, but he had already backed away. He turned on his heel and strode purposefully to their bedchamber.

When she reached the doorway, he was at the wardrobe, quickly pulling out his Death Eater robes. She swallowed hard when she remembered the way he had grabbed his left arm as they spoke. _No, no, not now… not right now…_ "I'm being Summoned."

She stepped forward, intending to embrace him as had become their custom, but the strange, forbidding look on his face stopped her in her tracks. "Alert Dumbledore." She nodded wordlessly, unsure how to respond to this strange mood. _Running hot and then cold, indeed_, she thought. He stalked to the small table next to the bed and retrieved the Portkeys.

Unable to hold back any longer, she went to him and embraced him. He held her tightly, and she could feel that emotion, the emotion that – until now – had been nameless, flowing through the bond. "Be careful, Hermione." With that, he released her and spoke the word to activate the Portkey.

And then he was gone.

A whisper broke the stillness. "Be careful, Severus."

* * *

A/N: Whew. Longer than I expected… once again ;). But the story needed a few scenes that I hadn't originally planned, and a couple of them appear here. I hope it didn't throw the pacing of the chapter off too much. But, it's late and I'm tired and I've read through it a couple of times… if you spot any errors, please don't hesitate to let me know!!! And please please review to let me know what you think.

Thanks so much to everyone for their reviews of the last chapter! The action scene was great fun to write and I'm glad so many of you thought it came out all right. I did go back and fix the typos – Hermione drinking from a ship was a rather amusing one – but let me know if you notice more.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. **The Call of the Blood and the concepts associated with it – as a package, not as individual elements - are my creations, not the creations of JK Rowling – please email me if you wish to use them or a derivative of them in a story. **

Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_**This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 25

--------

The young blond man screamed.

Again.

Of course, the screams were quieter now. At first, they had been full-bodied, frenzied… cutting through the ear like a knife through raw flesh. Now, the knife had lost some of its shine… but none of its effectiveness. The screams were now hoarse and lower pitched, but still effective. Perhaps even more effective now.

Those of the Inner Circle stood unmoving, watching the younger Malfoy writhing on the ground, his hands – both the bandaged and unbandaged – clenching into fists before the fingers splayed out in supplication… again and again. Outside of the Inner Circle, the congregation of Death Eaters shifted uncomfortably… turning to look at a neighbor for a moment before their gazes were drawn back to the source of the cries.

Except for one.

Standing unnaturally still, a tall black-eyed Death Eater stared at Malfoy. The tension in his form was palpable, and Severus could see that both of the man's hands were clenched into tight fists. Suddenly the man's head turned, and black eyes met black eyes.

Viktor Krum.

_Intriguing, _Severus thought. _Such anger… but is the anger for, or against, Malfoy? _Severus' eyes narrowed and he prepared himself to delve into Krum's mind, but the younger man turned his eyes back to the scene before Severus could try to uncover the truth.

Finally, the Dark Lord lowered his wand and spoke. "Let this be a lesson to all. The Call asks to be fed. It is strong." There was a murmured agreement among the congregation. The Dark Lord's eyes blazed. "But what must be stronger is your loyalty to your brothers. You are bound together, through me, for one purpose. Do not let your insignificant personal pursuits get in the way of that purpose. Or you will suffer my wrath."

"Yes, my Lord," the group said as one. Even Draco, his body shuddering, managed to speak the required words.

With an imperious gesture, the Dark Lord beckoned Pettigrew forward to pull Draco into place outside the Inner Circle. The silver-armed wizard dumped Malfoy to the ground unceremoniously and watched – his amusement evident - as the young man struggled to his feet. Once Draco stood, wavering slightly, Pettigrew returned to his post behind the Dark Lord.

"My loyal Death Eaters – we are moving forward quickly with our plans. Potter is weak, frightened… he does not expect an attack until much later. And so – we will surprise the boy before he has a chance to summon his _Gryffindor courage_," the Dark Lord said. The final two words were spoken with a sort of amused contempt that caused many of the Death Eaters to chuckle. "The time draws near, my loyal servants. Before the empty days come to a close, you will be called upon to deliver death to our enemies."

The Dark Lord fell silent and swept his gaze across the congregation, meeting each member's eyes before moving on. It was a matter of minutes before he met Severus' eyes – Severus felt the probing immediately, and was already prepared with feelings of excitement, anticipation, and loyalty. Satisfied, the Dark Lord moved on. Finally, after each member's mind had been examined, he said, "When your Marks burn green – come to me immediately. Come prepared for battle."

And then he disappeared.

The inevitable mingling occurred immediately after the Dark Lord disappeared. Though the crowd irritated him, Severus had to admit it had its advantages over the smaller Inner Circle gatherings. First of all, he and Rodolphus would have a much easier time speaking inconspicuously. And… Severus raised an eyebrow behind his mask as he noticed Krum stalking with his typical gangly gait to where the younger Malfoy stood.

It appeared his question concerning young Krum's anger would be answered after all.

Severus could not hear the words that were spoken at first, and moved closer, nodding to various Death Eaters as he passed. A quick glance around ascertained that Lucius was occupied on the other side of the Circle, deep in conversation with Macnair. Satisfied, he continued to edge closer, stopping when he saw Krum's fist shoot out and grab Malfoy by the collar. The taller man's fist twisted in the black cloth as he pulled the blond boy closer to him.

Severus was just near enough to hear the hissed words. "You vill _not _touch her again. Or that hole in your hand vill look like a little scratch ven I'm through."

"What's it to you, anyway?" The arrogant tone would have been more effective had the boy's voice not quavered.

"Do not vorry about that, Draco. Just remember, if you touch her again, I… Vill… Kill… You." Krum released the boy's collar and turn on his heel, loping off through the crowd.

Severus frowned. What was Hermione to Krum? Did the young man actually harbor friendly feelings towards her? Or, perhaps, more? Perhaps… he could well remember Karkaroff's ire when Krum had chosen Hermione as his date to that ridiculous Yule Ball the year of the TriWizard tournament. Krum obviously hadn't done it on Karkaroff's orders, and while Severus had assumed at the time that it was simply a show of teenage rebellion… perhaps he had been mistaken.

His musings were cut short when he heard Rodolphus' voice beside him. "Interesting."

"Quite."

"Walk with me, friend."

Casting a quick glance around, Rodolphus and Severus moved to a spot far from the other members of the Inner Circle. "So… the battle draws near."

"Yes." Severus kept his voice steady and calm. Before the Dark Lord Summoned the other Death Eaters, he had given the Inner Circle information concerning the upcoming battle. The lesser Death Eaters would be sent to Hogsmeade, to draw attention away from the true battle, which would take place at Hogwarts. The Dark Lord would hold back from the fight until the Inner Circle members had taken care of the resistance at Hogwarts, and then he would Apparate in through the defunct wards and face Dumbledore (if he still lived) and then, ultimately, Potter. The Dark Lord obviously saw Potter as an afterthought.

Severus had to admit it was actually a very good plan... if not for the spy in their midst.

Rodolphus quickly cast a silencing charm and said, "Lucius stared at you the entire time his son was being reprimanded. You were not at an angle to see, but it is evident that he blames you, Severus."

Severus turned to Rodolphus. "Have you heard anything else concerning the information you shared with me last?"

"No, friend. There has been another visit, but I could not get Bella to speak of it. She is not always… lucid, you understand. There is no rhyme or reason to her speech. I will owl you immediately if I hear anything."

"Thank you, friend – but be wary… there are many eyes to intercept an owl."

Rodolphus glanced at Severus. "Did you forget to whom you speak, friend? Any information I have for you will be given in person. I will send an owl with a meeting place, nothing more, if I can make sense of Bella's ravings."

"I see." Severus noticed the other man's tense form. "It is unfortunate that she could not withstand the Call… though it is not surprising. She was a strong woman, but the Blood Rites linkage…"

Rodolphus nodded curtly. "Yes. You understand that better than most, don't you?" Lestrange sighed and said, "The worst times… it is most difficult when she does have her times of lucidity. I have her back, for brief periods… and then it's gone. But it is still nice, to have someone to speak to." Rodolphus' eyes gleamed. "Is it not, friend?"

"I am… unsure what you mean."

"Come, Severus. The… your wife has grown on you, has she not? I can't imagine you placing the blood mark on her if you didn't have… a fondness… for her. She is a formidable witch."

"Yes, she is," Severus answered carefully.

Rodolphus nodded and looked away. "I must admit, brother, I liked her more than I expected. I felt a strange… affinity, you might say. At first I thought it was your influence, but then… the more I thought… she has touched the Call, has she not?" Severus froze next to him, and Rodolphus laughed. "Do not worry, friend – your secret is safe. The linkage was not complete, and the others will just assume it was your influence that they felt. I admire your cunning, friend. If you wish to keep her after the Dark Lord is victorious – and that appears to be your intent - her link to the Call will work to your advantage."

"You have uncovered my plan, brother," Severus replied, a wave of relief overtaking him as he considered the truth in Rodolphus' words. Even if they fell, even if the Dark Lord triumphed… he could keep Hermione safe, with his influence.

If his role as spy was not discovered, of course.

------

"We need to plan, Headmaster. We dare not wait until after the holiday."

Albus sighed and sat back. "As you say, Severus. We will call together the primary Order members in the morning and plan our defense."

Severus nodded and wrestled with himself a moment before finally saying, "Potter should be told everything." Albus raised both eyebrows, and Severus sneered at the mildly shocked look on the older man's face. "The Call. Hermione. The spells. The Blood Rites. He _must _know what is planned. All of it."

Dumbledore sat back and regarded Severus silently for long moments. "You think it is that close, then?" Severus nodded, blowing out a breath. "Very well. You do realize the repercussions? He is not likely to take it well."

"It was your decision to hold the information back, Hea-"

"And you agreed, Severus," the Headmaster said heatedly, the strain of recent events finally showing itself.

Severus smirked, pleased with his ability to break the old man's calm façade. "Of course I agreed. It was the correct thing to do. Getting that through the boy's thick skull, however, will not be an easy task. Which is why I think he should be told as soon as possible."

Albus eyed him irritably for a moment, and Severus was sure the older wizard was going to take him to task for his baiting. Then the Headmaster sighed and shook his head, smiling slightly. "Tell him as soon as possible, you think? Give him time to calm down, before Tom strikes?"

"Correct."

Albus nodded slowly. "I agree, Severus." He leaned forward in his chair, fixing Severus with clear blue eyes. "After tomorrow's meeting, you and your wife, along with Harry and myself, will discuss the… events... that have occurred."

"Very well. If that is all…"

Albus nodded and waved him to the door. "Go, child."

Severus made his way to their dungeons, his footsteps slowing as he approached the door to their chambers. He had – out of necessity - successfully put it out of his mind while at the Death Eater gathering, but now… he would have to face Hermione after his… revelation. While he did not regret it, precisely, he wasn't quite sure what to say to her now.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door.

------

Hermione sat, staring at the fireplace, her hands held tightly together in her lap. Severus' earlier words had run over and over again in her mind, and she was terrified something was going to happen at this Death Eater gathering… well, in truth, she was always terrified when he went to Death Eater gatherings, but for some reason this time was more acute. _Why? Why was he Summoned right then? Right when he told me…_

The sound of the door opening interrupted her thoughts and she jumped up, her heart pounding. She could see him standing in the doorway, the black of his robes standing out starkly against the gray darkness of the entryway. Suppressing the urge to run to him, she simply watched him for a moment, unsure of his mood. Generally, after meetings she would sit quietly while he changed into his evening attire to give him a chance to regroup.

_Not tonight, _she resolved_._

She walked to him slowly, watching his eyes to see if that strange forbidding expression returned. It didn't. He stood stock-still; his eyes on hers as she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Severus."

His arms came around her in a satisfyingly strong grip, lifting her feet from the floor as his lips met hers. She didn't know if it was just her imagination, but something _felt _different with this kiss, as if the confessions made before he left had changed something – some dynamic – between them. She wondered about it for a moment, until the feel of his hands moving across her skin wiped away all thought.

Almost all thought. There was one thing that remained, emblazoned in her mind, and it slipped easily from her lips. "I love you."

He stared at her, his eyes glittering in the firelight, and her stomach clenched when she saw the intensity of that gaze. It was devouring her, but also giving something back… it felt as if there were an energy flowing between them and she realized, belatedly, that there _was _an energy… through the bond… an emotion… and her blood sang as she recognized it.

He didn't say the words; she hadn't really expected him to. But as he lowered her to the carpet, his eyes said it… and his hands said it… and his body told her…

_He loved her._

------

Hermione looked at Severus, noting the way his jaw clenched. It wouldn't be long before he lost his temper. "Yes, Fletcher. It will be soon. When the Dark Mark burns green, we are to Apparate to his location, prepared for battle." Mundungus had asked question after question, often repeating things, and Severus was at the end of his patience. Hermione was, also, if the truth be told.

Thankfully, Albus spoke before Mundungus could rile Severus further. "And we must prepare for battle, also, my friends. Which is why you were called here this morning. We must plan our defense… we have reason to believe that Voldemort plans to attack Hogwarts directly."

Minerva spoke up. "What is to be done about the students, Albus? That has to be a top concern."

The Headmaster nodded gravely. "Yes, Minerva. I would like you to lead the evacuation of the students once we are alerted by Severus that the Voldemort has called him." An in-depth discussion began, then, of all of the exits out of Hogwarts. Harry's eyes lit up as he heard that there were actually a few that did not appear on the Marauder's Map, and Hermione had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

Severus interjected, "Do remember, however, that Hogsmeade will be swarming with the lesser Death Eaters. I think it would be unwise to lead the students out of the passages until after the battle has ended."

"What about Portkeys?" Tonks said excitedly. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"An excellent suggestion, Tonks," Minerva said with a smile. Hermione nodded slowly. It _did _make sense… but the logistics seemed daunting. They certainly couldn't trust the students to keep track of them.

Remus sat forward. "Perhaps a mixture of both ideas? We can conceal ample Portkeys in the passageways. That way the students will be out of harm's way when they're activated."

"And keep them from being lost by the students before they're needed," Hermione pointed out. She caught Harry's eye before adding, "And it will also keep the students from… _experimenting_… with them before the time is right."

Severus glanced at her dryly.

"A very good point, Remus. And Hermione," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes dancing with humor. "Now… I will alert the Order when Severus is Summoned…" And the discussion for the defense of the castle began in earnest.

Hermione kept one ear on the proceedings but was unable to stop thinking about the Headmaster's words… _When Severus is Summoned… _Gods… he played such a dangerous role… it seemed beyond comprehension that he could come out of all of this alive. She glanced at her husband, his face tense with concentration as they debated various defensive strategies, and she felt a cold sliver of fear pierce her heart. _Why now? Why now, when we've just discovered how we feel? _And then her more logical side took over, _Well, when would be a better time, really? You know how you've felt for a long while now, and likely he has felt the same but just never admitted it to himself. The speaking of it shouldn't change anything. _

But it did.

Her attention was brought back to the discussion when Bill Weasley spoke up. "Soon, you said. But how soon?" His clear blue eyes – _Gods, so like Ron's _- showed concern. "Do we have any idea?"

Severus shook his head. "Twice, the Dark Lord mentioned the time was drawing near. When the empty days, as he said, come to a close we will attack and bring the Wizarding World to its knees… and so on and so forth," he said, waving his hand dismissively.

Hermione's breath caught.

"Typical megalomaniac rot, eh, Severus?" Tonks said, her eyes twinkling.

Hermione would have smiled, but her mind was too busy working… _the empty days…_ what if it meant more than he thought?

"The empty days, he said? Both times?" she asked. Severus turned to look at her and frowned questioningly. "Severus? Both times, did he say when the empty days come to a close you would attack?"

"Yes, but I fail to s-"

"The holidays," she breathed. "He'll attack during the holidays. Merlin…" The entire room went silent and she felt the weight of many eyes fall on her.

"Hermione? What-" Severus began.

She shook her head. "A… friend… told me that Tom Riddle used to refer to the winter holidays as the _empty days_. I don't know if it's significant, but…"

Albus sighed and sat back in his chair. "I would not have remembered without your assistance, Hermione, but now I do recall that… our _mutual_ friend… mentioned it to me once." Hermione glanced over at Remus and saw the dawning realization on his face.

The room remained silent until Albus stood. "Well. It really changes nothing for us, whether the strike occurs in the next week or the next month. Our plans remain the same. Be ready. Be wary."

There was a general murmuring as the other Order members stood and prepared to depart. Dumbledore motioned to Harry and the four of them, as planned, left the room to speak in the privacy of the Headmaster's office.

As expected, Harry didn't take the news well at all. After the Headmaster finished speaking, Harry remained sitting, his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. "And you didn't tell me." A statement, not a question.

Albus nodded gravely. "The danger was too great, Harry."

Harry shook his head. "The danger? What about the danger you put me in, by not telling me the truth? What about that?"

"No one lied to you, Potter," Severus drawled irritably. Hermione shot him a dark look – it wouldn't do to antagonize Harry further.

"Harry, I'm sorry. We just didn't think it would be safe for you to know about me. And even if it was safe-"

"Safe? _Safe_? What if Voldemort had struck before now? What then? And I would have gone, blind, dumb… thinking you were the key-"

"It's not something I'm proud of, all right?" Hermione snapped, instantly chastened when she saw the look of hurt in those green eyes. "Harry… I'm sorry. It's not… it's embarrassing. I was weak. And now… well. I am still the key, possibly. Maybe the prophecy had a dual message."

"What do you mean? I thought… I thought that book with Ron's-" Harry cleared his throat "-with his blood in it. I thought that was the key."

Severus stood and paced to the window. "Potter, there are three people who can possibly perform the Blood Rites during the Final Battle." His shoulders were tense as he said in a strained voice, "Two are here in this room."

Harry frowned. "You… you have to be-"

"You to be open to the Call to perform the Blood Rites. Hermione and myself can perform the Blood Rites." The tone was clipped and cool, and only Hermione realized just how much control the dark man was exerting over himself… the emotions flooding the blood bond threatened to overwhelm her.

"But Severus can't. Not against the Dark Lord, Harry. So that's why I'm ready, it's why I could still be the key. In a way." Seeing Harry's growing confusion, Hermione quickly told him of the Blood Loyalty pledge that the Dark Lord required of his followers.

"I saw it. I saw it performed once," Harry said in an odd tone. "You… did that?"

Severus turned from the window and stared at Harry. "Twice. Once, as required by the Dark Lord." Then the black eyes shifted to fix on the Headmaster. "The second time, as required by my own resolve."

"It was not necessary, Severus. I trusted you, without that."

Severus turned back to the window. "It was necessary, Headmaster."

"Merlin," Harry breathed. "It looked… um, it looked painful-"

A soft chuckle. "And so it was, Potter. But you should know, more than most – a man does what he must."

Harry regarded the black-robed wizard thoughtfully. The anger had left the young man's face completely. "Well. It looks like we're set, then. I have a Patronus blade-" He patted his robe pocket with a smile, looking at Hermione. They had shared their revelation at the beginning of the Order meeting, to much relief and admiration. "We have the spells ready to bind his soul to an object, and we know who has to perform the Blood Rites."

"I wish it were that simple, Potter. We must avoid Hermione's involvement at all costs," Severus snapped, moving away from the window.

"Severus-"

"No! We will tell him all of it. Potter – the Call does not become a permanent part of a person's nature until one of two things occurs: _Avada Kedavra_ is cast on another person, or the Blood Rites are performed. Of the two, _Avada Kedavra _creates a more manageable link."

Harry turned to stare at her, but she kept her eyes fixed on her husband.

"To quote you from earlier, Severus - I will do what I must. I'll stay close to Harry in the battle."

"And here you see her stubbornness, Potter."

Harry grinned. "I'm used to it, Sir."

A snort was Severus' only reply.

-----

The next days passed quickly. Amidst the Christmas cheer, the Order members could feel a palpable tension in the air. A feeling of suspense. Of waiting.

Portkeys were created – enough for the entire student body, in case the theory that the Dark Lord would attack over the holidays proved false. They were hidden in the passageways, and concrete evacuation plans were made. Lupin, Moody, and some of the other Order members moved into the castle for the remainder of the holidays to help with the preparations.

Tempers ran high.

"I _told _you Severus, there's no point in arguing about it. I'm staying close to Harry." They had been over this time and again, and Hermione was getting sick of it. She glared at him from the couch as he sat in the armchair across from her.

"Why? Why not go with Minerv-"

"Minerva's not even leaving, you overbearing bat! She's just leading the students to the passageways, making sure the prefects know what to expect, and giving them the Portkeys!"

Severus glowered. "It would still be safer-"

"Is that what you think? Come on, Severus. No one's really going to attack Harry. They'll avoid him, saving him for the Dark Lord. And I'll have a Disillusionment charm, _and…_"

"What?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll also have Fawkes with me. Dumbledore has asked him to stay with Harry, you know."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Indeed?" One long finger traced his lips as he thought. "That does make a great deal of sense…"

Biting back a triumphant smile, Hermione rose to her feet and slid onto Severus' lap, straddling him. "Of course it does. I thought of it."

A snort answered her. "I want you safe."

"And I want _you_ safe. But we both have to face it… it's a war. We knew that, before we married. It's _why _we married, after all." With an idle finger, she traced his jawline and ear before running her nail along the nape of his neck.

"Mmm." Severus closed his eyes. "The initial reason, yes. But there are other reasons that I would claim, if it were to happen now."

"Oh?"

"Yes. And now – you had best stop what you're doing, or we will be later for lunch than a simple spat would explain." With so few professors in the building during the holidays, all staff members were required at the afternoon and evening meals in the Great Hall. Hermione nodded reluctantly and stood after giving him a quick kiss.

Flitwick and McGonagall were the only two professors present when they entered the Great Hall minutes later. Luckily, during the holidays there was no assigned seating at the Head Table and Hermione was able to sit next to Severus for the meal. Hermione felt a weight lift from her shoulders as she spoke with Minerva about the following term's lesson plans and other innocuous subjects. When most of the students had left, venturing back to their dormitories, Minerva leaned close to Hermione.

"I almost wish it would happen now. Before the rest of the students return. This group would be much easier to handle."

"I know what you mean, Minerva." Hermione looked down at her plate and pushed the food around with her fork. Beside her, an owl landed in front of Severus. She glanced at him and he shook his head slightly as he broke the seal on the letter. "I hope it's earlier, as well… and I just can't take this waiting."

Severus stiffened suddenly and stuffed the letter into the pocket of his robes. He leaned close to Hermione and whispered, "I must go. Inform the Headmaster that Rodolphus requested to see me immediately… he has information on Malfoy."

"What-" Severus had told her of his discussion with Rodolphus and it had chilled her. Malfoy meant to move against Severus… if Rodolphus had found something else out, it would be invaluable.

"I do not know, Hermione. Stay close to our chambers and I will floo you if I can. Otherwise – I will see you when I return. Be safe."

"Be safe," she whispered as he stood and swept from the Great Hall. Hermione sat silently for a moment, willing her heart to slow, before she folded her napkin. Standing, she placed it deliberately next to her plate and said a polite farewell to Minerva.

Once in the corridor, she raced to their chambers and floo'ed Albus. He answered immediately and nodded thoughtfully when she gave him the message. "As strange as it may sound, Hermione, they are old friends. Of any of them, he can trust Rodolphus the most."

"Yes, Albus. I know."

"Good. Now, relax, child." She pulled back from the fire reluctantly and walked to the couch, sitting stiffly. Something felt wrong about this, but she didn't know what.

And now, she had to wait.

Two hours later, she heard the door open and a voice ring out, "I have brought you a gift, wife."

Hermione started at the familiar voice, a feeling of relief flooding her… until she stood and turned… and saw him. Until she saw _them_. Her husband was pushing another man along in front of him. She had the impression of blond hair… long blond hair… and her heart caught in her throat. _Why__?_

Severus anticipated her question. "A gift… does it please you?" With a rough movement, Severus pushed Lucius Malfoy to the floor. The man's eyes bore a detached, glazed look that clearly told Hermione just why the Death Eater was being so quiescent. _Imperius…_

"Severus, I-"

"He tried to attack me, after my meeting with Rodolphus. But I was able to gain the upper hand… and now… I am tired of his attempts against me."

"Why… why did you bring him _here_?" Hermione's eyes were wide as she stared at Lucius Malfoy… the Call began to stir in her blood as, unbidden, images of Ron's body swam before her vision.

Severus' voice sounded very far away. "Satisfy the Call, M- Hermione."

_No, that isn't right… what's… _She couldn't think… the red haze was growing along the edges of her vision… _This doesn't make sense…_

"But, Severus…"

He answered her savagely, "He spoke, Hermione… I gave him Veritaserum, and he spoke. He told me what he did to your mother before her death. He smiled when he said it… thought it would hurt me, perhaps… I would have killed him myself, but you deserve that honor." She stared at his face, but his eyes were shuddered… like a mirror, letting nothing in and reflecting everything back to the world.

Hermione's mind reeled. _He told me what he did to your mother_… But what? What could be so terrible that Severus would actually bring Lucius Malfoy here and allow – no, _encourage_ – her to take her revenge? It had to be something horrific… something terrible…

As if just murder wasn't bad enough?

Her breathing quickened as she stared at the man kneeling before her. It would take little… so little… to pull out her wand and whisper those two words… _Avada Kedavra_… but that wouldn't be _justice_.

_No, it wouldn't be justice… I want him to pay... and he will… _

_He will pay… I will make him pay. _

The red haze grew and her hand trembled as it clutched her wand. She knew… she knew Severus would not allow her to cast the spell she so longed to cast… but there were others. Oh, yes, there were others. Crucio, slicing hexes, other dark spells… so many. So many.

She raised her wand, feeling the Call pulse through her. A voice screamed in her head… _Do it! It's what you've dreamed… your husband is giving you this gift! Do it! Make him scream! Make him feel just a little of the pain you feel… _

Her hand shook. Another voice rose in her mind, _But why? How? So cold… how can he be so cold… what did Malfoy do… what did he do… what did he say, under the Veritaserum? _

The first voice was back. _How badly should he be hurt, for what he did? _

She shook her head, blinking sweat away from her eyes. _But if it _is_ that horrible, what Severus heard… why don't I feel _anything _through the bond? Revulsion, disgust… _anything_? There's nothing there… just… blankness…_

Something wasn't right.

She had to know.

"Severus… release the Silencing spell… I want to know. I have to know. I want to hear it from his own foul mouth." Her voice was cold, but clear.

Severus stared at her with narrowed eyes for a moment before he nodded and cancelled the Silencing charm with a sharp wave of his wand. Before she could speak, he grabbed Lucius' hair and demanded, "Tell her what we discussed earlier! How Lucius Malfoy ravaged her mother's body. _Tell her_."

Lucius swayed, a frown beginning to form on his face, and Hermione watched closely. The man actually looked guilty! Could it be possible?

Severus' lips pulled back in a sneer. "Do it, Hermione. Trust me… it is much deserved. _Crucio_, _Avada_ _Kedavra_."

"_Avada_ _Kedavra_?" Hermione frowned. After all those talks about how she should avoid it? Something wasn't making sense… and yet… there her enemy knelt, before her… it would be so easy, so simple…

Severus looked at her oddly. "Is that not what you wish? After what he has done, what grief he has caused?" He shrugged calmly. "Very well. I can cast the final curse. It would be my pleasure, believe me. But – the ultimate revenge would be for him to feel _Crucio_ delivered by your hand, my wife."

Hermione flicked her eyes to Lucius, staring at his cold, blue eyes. But… they weren't cold… they blazed with a strange inner fire… something… there was something he wanted to tell her.

But what could he say to make this better? He was her gift… her gift from her husband, to do with as she willed…

_Do it._

_Make him pay. _

She raised her wand, leveling it at the blond man. Lucius shook his head and let out a gasp.

_You cannot bring back the dead._

All of a sudden, she felt a jolt through the bond… fear, anger… and then that other emotion… it was so strong it almost suffocated her… with a supreme effort she forced the Call back. Snapping her gaze to Severus she noticed, with a certain amount of confusion, that his expression had not altered. No cracks had appeared in the shining black of his eyes…

Frowning, she turned gaze to Lucius. Her wand was still trained on him, and she could see a struggle on his face… nothing truly visible, just an impression of strain… Suddenly, the blond man let out a shout and threw himself to the side.

_Merlin._

The _Imperius _was broken.

Lucius lay still for a moment, his chest heaving as he gulped huge breaths of air. She stepped backwards in shock. Severus moved forward, his wand raised, but before he could utter an incantation Lucius yelled out, "Eastenders!"

Quick as lightning, Hermione whipped her wand up and shrieked, "_Stupefy!_"

The dark-haired man's face registered surprise an instant before her spell hit him. As he fell heavily to the floor, she rushed forward. "_Finite Incantatum_," she whispered, kneeling next to the blond man. An intense wave of relief flooded through the bond as she put her arms around him. The chest was broader than what she was used to, but she clutched him to her all the same.

"Severus?" The blond man nodded and leaned against her. She closed her eyes and tried to stop shaking. "Are you hurt? Gods… I should have known…"

"You did know – I could see it. You knew something wasn't right," the blond man said, coughing.

"Polyjuice."

"Yes," he breathed. She tightened her arms around him.

"Clever, to dose you both..."

"Indeed."

"How much longer?"

The shoulders in her arms moved jerkily and she loosened her grip. His voice rumbled through his chest as he said, "I'm not certain… but it can't be too much longer. He had a… difficult… time forcing me to breach the wards on our chambers."

"So that's how… _Imperius_."

"He did give me Veritaserum, early on. It's worn off now… but that's how he knew about the Call. Your Call. And too much else, besides."

"We have to kill him."

The blond head shook hastily. "No – no. We can't. The Dark Lord would know, instantly… and he would probe me, to find the truth. Crabbe and Goyle both saw me with him last."

"What happened?"

"The letter from Rodolphus was a fake. Lucius must have heard – or maybe… maybe Narcissa heard it from Bella…"

"Isn't Bella insane?"

"She has lucid moments, from what Rodolphus said. And he mentioned that he still talks to her… she's his only outlet."

"Oh." Hermione chewed her lip. "So what happened?"

"Not much to tell, my dear. Three against one, and I was a fool. Taken by surprise," he said, frowning. "I wish I _could_ kill him…"

"But you can't… not yet. So he'll have to stay here."

"No. Not here." His hair was beginning to darken and Hermione smiled with relief. It was very difficult speaking to him while he wore Lucius Malfoy's face. He pulled away from her with a groan and stood. "In one of the abandoned classrooms… I'll ward the doors and bind him." In a matter of moments, her husband stood before her once more.

"I much prefer you like this," Hermione said in relief as she took in his familiar form.

The man on the ground was also changing, hair lengthening and lightening, nose shortening… while Hermione knew that the man on the floor was the more classically beautiful of the two, she couldn't keep from drinking in the figure of her husband. And, this time, behind those black eyes she saw _him_.

Severus retrieved his wand from the unconscious man's robes and then cast a quick _Mobilicorpus. _They made their way to a nearby abandoned classroom and Severus lowered the other man to the ground – none too gently – before binding him in black cords. Hermione grinned and turned to comment on the rough treatment when a strange sliding, scraping sound came from the walls of the room. "What-"

Suddenly, a hideous screeching noise reverberated through the castle. Hermione put her hands over her ears, vainly trying to block out the sound… it was as if the castle itself was screaming…

"What is this?" she yelled over the ear-splitting sound.

Severus was not faring much better. He winced and grabbed her arm urgently. "The wards are down! Run, go, now! Alert Dumbledore and Minerva! I'm being Summoned!"

"Now?" she said stupidly as he grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the room, turning to place locking wards on the door to keep Malfoy in place.

"Now! Go!" As he stepped back to leave, she caught sight of his arm before he pulled his sleeve down. The Dark Mark glowed a livid green and she swallowed hard. _This is it. _Throwing her arms around him, she reached up and kissed him, hard.

"I love you," she said against his lips. "Be careful."

"I will." His forehead leaned against hers, and black eyes stared at her… deep, fathomless. "Do what you must. But you must live, Hermione. You must." She sucked in a breath as his eyes bore into hers. "I will return as soon as I am able. Stay close to Potter, don't forget the pl-"

"I know, Severus… go!"

Another tight embrace, then she heard the barest whisper from his lips… "My love."

Blinking back tears, she watched as he pulled back and waved his wand, Apparating easily through the now-defunct wards. Whirling, she pulled out her own wand and raced to the Headmaster's office, hoping fervently that he was still there.

_And it begins._

* * *

A/N: And so it begins. One more chapter, I think. Possibly an epilogue, also, but don't quote me on that ;). Depends on how much fits in with next week's finale chapter.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! A bit of preparation was necessary before the "main event." Thank you to everyone who reviewed!!! Each and every one helps keep me motivated.

And now – a little bit of pimping:

Hawklaw, with my complete approval and glee, has written a parody of Cloak of Courage called Nappies of Courage. It's a humorous look at just what might happen if Hermione and Severus, under the influence of the Call, were to have a baby. It's brilliant, hilarious, and really really has a great theory for the prophecy. I'm only bummed that I already outlined out that line before I read the ending for Nappies… LOL! It's great – go check it out on Lordandladysnape.com. Here's the link: lordandladysnape.com / viewstory.php?sid=4540 (remove spaces before and after the "/" for the link to work).

Thanks, Hawk – I love it!!!


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. **The Call of the Blood and the concepts associated with it – as a package, not as individual elements - are my creations, not the creations of JK Rowling – please email me if you wish to use them or a derivative of them in a story. **

Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_**This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 26

Hermione raced through the corridors to the Headmaster's office. On the way she saw a few Slytherin students staggering out of their common room in confusion and she yelled at them to return and wait for further instructions. A moment later, she was relieved to see Remus running past her to lead the students to the passageway and the Portkeys.

The moment she reached the gargoyle the door swung open and she raced up the steps. Panting heavily, she burst into the Headmaster's office. Harry was already there, pacing, Fawkes perched on his shoulder. The phoenix's wings flew open to regain his balance as Harry whirled around to face her. Fawkes had a definite look of irritation in his eyes and Hermione had to hold back a hysterical giggle.

"Snape's gone, isn't he?"

Sobering quickly, she answered, "Yes… his Mark glowed gr-"

"I figured. My scar is hurting – even through the shields I use. He's ready. Excited."

Dumbledore pulled his head out of the fireplace. "Hermione – it's good to see you." Standing, he brushed off his robes. Glittering floo powder floated slowly to the floor.

"Headmaster – how did they drop the wards on the castle? I didn't think that was possi-"

"I do not know, Mrs. Snape," Albus said, frowning. "Severus said there had been hints that this might happen, but he hadn't any idea how Tom meant to go about it."

"Gods…"

"It is not entirely unexpected. The wards on this office, and I imagine those on Severus' – on your – chambers are still intact. The ones that were separate from the main castle, that is."

"Right. So we just sit here, blind, waiting for them to come?"

The Headmaster shook his head and Harry gestured to a small table sitting next to the Headmaster's desk. On it were multiple scrying glasses. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise – each glass showed a different part of the castle. She could see Minerva rushing to the Ravenclaw Common Room in one, and in another glass she could see Filch pulling the heavy bars down across the main doors in the Entry Hall.

"Minerva is already organizing the evacuation of the students."

"I saw Remus going to the Slytherin Common Room on my way here. So now…"

Harry's face hardened. "We wait."

-----

"The time of battle is at hand, my loyal servants. The time of your reward is near. Make me proud. Bring glory to my name. Power will be ours. We will cleanse the Wizarding World of those who wish to drag it down into the depths, we will restore the purity of magic and blood!"

A rousing cheer followed this short speech. Severus smiled grimly behind his mask. He had arrived prior to most of the others, thanks to the lack of anti-Apparition wards around the castle.

The Dark Lord had been _most _displeased at Lucius' failure to appear at his Summons. Draco had arrived when the rest of the Death Eaters were called and the boy stared at Severus with pure hatred. It was likely just a response to his _correction _of the boy's actions at the beginning of the holidays, but a thread of doubt wormed its way into his head… what if Lucius had completed a familial binding with the boy?

It wouldn't surprise him.

Still, a familial blood bond would not transfer more than extreme pain… it was not so close a bond as that created during a blood mating ritual. And, he reminded himself, Lucius had endured no injury that would transfer through a blood bond… even a full-emotion blood mark, which he suspected Narcissa bore. At the moment the man lay unconscious behind heavy wards.

Severus relaxed slightly and smirked again at the common rhetoric the Dark Lord used to rile his troops. The man truly had no subtlety. But – with this group – it certainly seemed to work. In a frenzy, the first groups of Death Eaters were dispatched to Hogsmeade. Severus settled in for a wait. Once the first reports returned from the field, the Inner Circle would be sent to Hogwarts to prepare it for the Dark Lord's arrival. Four only would remain at the Dark Lord's side for protection.

It was over a half an hour later that the first messengers returned to the Dark Lord. The city was resisting, Aurors had been called, but it was going well. Severus barely held back a snort. As if any messenger would be foolish enough to come with bad news before the Dark Lord! Even if every Death Eater other than himself had been killed, the man would likely say it was 'going well.' Once the messenger had been sent back to the field, the Dark Lord straightened and turned red eyes to Peter Pettigrew.

Severus frowned. This was unusual… unfortunately, he was not close enough to hear the exchange. With trepidation, Severus watched the man known as Wormtail Disapparate, wondering what assignment the Dark Lord had appointed to the man.

He hoped it was nothing that would throw their plans into disarray.

-----

Hermione raced down to the dungeons, the vial from the Headmaster held tightly in her left hand, her wand at the ready in her right. As she passed the door to the Slytherin Common Room, she allowed herself to feel a moment of relief. The students were gone, safe… far from this hell. They had watched via the scrying glasses as the Portkeys were activated. Only then did Dumbledore allow her to go to complete this task.

She had told Harry and Albus of the confrontation with Lucius. Due to the wards Severus had erected on the room, they weren't able to see the classroom the Death Eater was being held in, but Hermione was confident that the man was still unconscious. Her stunning spells had always been rather strong; even so, the Headmaster had suggested a more permanent method of keeping Lucius unconscious and out of the way. He couldn't be allowed to report to the Dark Lord, or Severus' life was forfeit.

Hermione often forgot that the Headmaster was an accomplished Potions researcher. She wasn't sure how, since it was even listed on the back of his Chocolate Frog card that he was instrumental in discovering the twelve uses of dragon's blood. But when the old wizard had pulled a small vial from his robes and pressed it into her hand, she had felt a jolt of surprise before her common sense took over.

"This is a sleeping potion. If the full dose – three drops – is given, he will not awaken until given the antidote. Less, and it will wear off on its own; more, and… well. Three drops only, Mrs. Snape. If Malfoy is put to sleep permanently with a potion it would not, unfortunately, be considered by the Wizengamot as a casualty of War." Hermione remembered pursing her lips together in irritation. Once again, she thought how easy it would be… how tempting… but the Headmaster's words echoed in her head. "Three drops only, Mrs. Snape. Hermione. Don't forget… we will likely need his testimony when all of this has ended."

Harry hadn't been pleased with Hermione heading down to the dungeons on her own, but she had overridden his concerns (with Albus' help). The scrying glasses would show if she was in any danger in the corridors, and with the wards down she could easily Apparate if she ran into trouble. She agreed with Albus and Severus' plan that Harry be kept back from the battle until the Dark Lord appeared – it would serve no purpose for him to be exhausted – magically _or_ physically - before that all-important confrontation. Even Apparition would tire him unnecessarily.

Finally, she reached the abandoned classroom. Quickly removing the physical wards, she strode into the room and gazed down at the man lying on the floor. He had not yet begun to stir, but she knew the stunning spell wouldn't hold indefinitely. And a wizard of Malfoy's power would likely make short work of the bindings, given time alone to concentrate his energies.

Kneeling beside the blond man, she whispered the incantation to remove the black cords from his mouth. She stared down at the refined features – still elegant, even now. Graceful, even. But cold. Deadly. Ruthless. Her hand began to shake and she wrenched her eyes away, sternly forcing her mind away from thoughts of what he had done.

From thoughts of revenge.

_He will pay. I will make him pay._

She struggled with herself, shaking her head, pushing back the urge.

_No!_

With resolve, she grabbed the stopper and pulled it off, fumbling a bit as her sweat-soaked palm slid across the smooth glass.

_Three drops only…_

She lifted the vial and raised it to Lucius' mouth when she heard something behind her. Whipping her head around, she raised her wand…

… but it was too late…

_"Expelliarmus!"_

She was flung to the floor, the vial and her wand knocked from her hands by the force of the spell. Silently, she berated herself. Why hadn't she considered this? Why hadn't she considered that, once the physical wards on the room were down, anyone could Apparate in? Why hadn't she removed _all_ of the wards, not just the physical ones? Harry and Albus would have no idea of what was occurring down in the abandoned classroom…

But… how did Draco know to come? He was supposed to be in Hogsmeade, not here…

A hand grabbed her by the hair and lifted her, cutting her train of thought. "What are you doing to my father, Mudblood?" She didn't answer and he flung her back against the wall. "_What did you do to him_? I felt it… through the bond."

She stared at him, wide-eyed. _The bond? _Then she remembered her readings… the blood mark wasn't just for lovers… there were variations – for families, friends… rarely used, but the Malfoys were a traditional family.

His eyes flicked to the now-empty vial sitting on the floor. Its contents had spilled across the stones when it was knocked from her hand. "Luckily for you, Mudblood, I'm short on time. I have to get back to the battle before I'm missed. Tell me what you just gave my father and how to counteract it." She froze. Should she tell him that she hadn't given his father anything? Would he believe her? Maybe she could stall, pretend there was an antidote somewhere…

He put his hands on her upper arms and shook her. Her head knocked against the wall and she clenched her teeth together to keep from crying out. "TELL ME NOW!"

"I told you if you touched her again, I vould kill you."

_Viktor_. She felt a wave of relief before a stab of fear shot through her. Draco released her immediately and turned to face Viktor, but not before a slicing hex hit him in the shoulder. He grunted in pain and then backed up against the wall. Hermione took the opportunity to retrieve her wand and then stood back to watch the two men.

"So you followed me?" A sneer accompanied the words, but it was half-hearted – the pain from the slicing hex had obviously stolen much of Draco's arrogance.

"I followed you. I saw you leef Hogsmeade vunce ve Apparated there. It vas easy to trace your Apparition signature. You do not even bother to cover it."

The blond man frowned at the cold look in the other man's eyes. "Listen, Viktor – I wasn't – I didn't come here to hurt her. I came for my father, and she was here. I wasn't going to hurt her-"

"You haff already hurt her!"

Draco swallowed. Hermione edged her way towards the wall, closer to the shadows. "Krum – I didn't mean to, I didn't… the Call, it was too much. You understand, you know – you know better than anyone… you saw me complete the linking with Weasley, you were there!"

"You claim to haff vanted her. You claim to have vanted her for years, and then you haff done these things to hurt her. You lied to me, Draco."

"You knew about the rings-"

"Not the rings, boy! Vat happened ven you lost control of your Call, ven you tried to…" Viktor stopped and a cold fire lit his eyes. Hermione could _feel _it building… growing in him… there was an affinity, like Ollivander said – Gods, she could _feel_ the Call rising in him! And she knew what was to happen, knew it with a cool certainty.

And she had no intentions of stopping it.

Severus would not be blamed, could not be blamed. She would keep her promise to him. And still, she could have her revenge.

"Viktor, wait! What about… what about… your loyalty to your brothers, remember? Remember what the Dark Lord said, Viktor!" Draco pleaded desperately.

Viktor raised his wand in a steady hand and breathed, "_Avada…_"

"VIKTOR!"

"…_Kedavra_."

A green flash… it pulled at her, sought her out… wanted her to feel what it was like, the glory, the power…

She clenched her teeth together…

A sound of rushing, of rushing death…

Draco fell to the ground, lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

From the outside, it seemed so quiet; such a calm, civilized, unemotional way to kill. But the truth… the truth was so different… now that she knew… now that she could _feel_… the Call roiled in her and she used every ounce of her determination to tamp it back down. She could not afford this, not now, not when Harry needed her… She looked at Viktor with haunted eyes and by his expression, he knew. He knew all too well what she was going through.

Her friend.

Her friend, and her destroyer… and her savior. It was too much, too confusing…

He strode across the room urgently, pulling off his mask. "Hermione – ve must go. You must go. Voldemort vill know, vill sense that there has been a killing of his Death Eater here at Hogvorts, before any haff been sent. He vill send somevun to investigate."

Hermione nodded and was about to step away from the shadows when Viktor cursed under his breath and wrapped her in his cloak, pulling her with him against the wall. He murmured an invisibility spell and she felt the ripple as it took effect. Heart pounding, she peeked out through a gap in his cloak. She had just drawn in a breath to question him when she heard it.

Footsteps.

Someone was coming…

A war raged within her. What if it wasn't a servant of Voldemort? What if it was someone from her side? An Order member? Would she speak, and give away Viktor's presence? Would she show her friend the same loyalty he had shown her? Would she betray her Order to help him to safety? _Betrayal brings hope, loyalty brings ruin. _But whose loyalty? What could she do? _Gods_… against all normal reason, she began to hope it _was_ a Death Eater coming.

_Maybe it would be Severus!_

She allowed herself a moment of hope, but that hope was destroyed when she saw who entered the room. She pressed back against Viktor and they moved farther into the shadows. She could feel Viktor's heart beating furiously against her back. The figure that entered wore a mask and robes, but she knew just who it was. Those twitchy movements and hunched stature could only belong to Peter Pettigrew.

Pettigrew stopped, a strange sound coming from his throat as he caught sight of Draco's body. Then, another strange sound as his head shifted to see Lucius. "There you are! Our master was most displeased that you didn't arrive with the others, Lucius." Pettigrew made his way to the elder Malfoy. With a wave of his wand, the black cords withdrew.

To her surprise, rather than reviving him immediately, Pettigrew just stood and looked down at the blond man, chuckling. "You think I never hear what you say about me, don't you, Lucius?" Pulling his foot back, the silver-armed wizard kicked Lucius hard in the ribs. "It won't be so funny when you wake up with a set of broken ribs, will it?" Another swift kick. "If the Dark Lord didn't want you, I'd kill you right now. But, unfortunately…" With a shrug, he lifted his wand. "_En-_"

Pettigrew stopped suddenly, his head turning. Hermione could almost imagine whiskers twitching and ears moving as the rat-faced man seemed to test the air. Abruptly, he disappeared and a rat stood in the spot previously occupied by the wizard. The rat sat still for a split second before scurrying out of the room. Hermione shook her head, confused, and then she heard it.

Footsteps, more than one person… and the popping sounds of Apparition… with a grunt, Viktor turned her around. "Ve haff to go. Be careful." She nodded and stepped back, waving her wand. As she Disapparated, she saw Viktor standing with his own wand out, black eyes gleaming at her, a strange look on his face. She would almost call it… _affectionate._

With a pop, she appeared in front of the gargoyle leading to the Headmaster's office. Once again, it opened automatically and she slipped inside and up the stairs. She expected to be bombarded with questions, but Harry didn't even turn when she entered the room.

"Albus is gone – he's met with the other Order members and they're taking their positions. He even saw Snape-" Harry indicated the scrying glass on the lower right. "-and it looks like the plan is the same." The plan. Severus was to watch the corridor leading to the Headmaster's office and misdirect any Death Eaters that approached. If it proved impossible to misdirect them, he would have to… _deal_ with them.

Discreetly, of course.

Hermione took a deep breath, resisting the urge to run and join her husband. "So the Inner Circle has arrived."

"Yes. And we're stuck here, watching." The bitterness in Harry's voice was indescribable.

----

"_Silencio!_"

With a satisfied breath, Severus turned back to the entrance of the corridor. Those ridiculous carol-singing suits of armor had now all been silenced and he was able to concentrate much easier. After successfully misdirecting a couple of lesser members of the Inner Circle to another part of the castle – an area of the castle which held a goodly number of trained Order members – Severus sank back into the shadows to await his next victim.

Hopefully the others were involved in their own skirmishes… the Order members and trusted Aurors that Dumbledore had assembled greatly outnumbered the members of the Inner Circle… a small detail that Severus had failed to mention to his other "master." He smirked at the thought.

Footsteps sounded down the corridor and Severus' heart froze when he recognized the Death Eater that was approaching. _No, not him… any but him_…

Rodolphus.

Severus let out a breath. So it was here – it was here that his loyalty would be tested. He had been ordered by Dumbledore to stop any Death Eaters that tried to enter this corridor, and he had gladly accepted. But he had not counted on this possibility…

His eyes were so fixed on Rodolphus that he didn't notice the other Death Eater approaching from the small side hall. A mistake that proved costly.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Severus' wand flew from his hand and he impacted the wall hard, barely keeping his feet under him.

"Lucius!" Rodolphus yelled, taking two long steps to push the blond man back. Lucius had on familiar black robes but no mask, and there was a crazed expression on his face. "What are you doing?"

"Out of my way, Rodolphus!"

"No, Lucius! Whatever your personal issues ar-"

"He's a TRAITOR!" Lucius screamed, spittle flying. Severus held his breath. This was it… his end. Severus sighed bitterly. And such an ignoble end it would be. Why couldn't he have at least been tortured to death by the Dark Lord, something a bit more interesting than a simple _Avada_ _Kedavra_ from Lucius Malfoy?

Rodolphus stared at Lucius. "You're mad, man. You tru-"

With a growl, Lucius shoved Rodolphus aside and reached into his belt, pulling out a long knife as he lunged at Severus. Severus jumped back, instinctively pulling his stomach in, but he hit the wall and the knife caught his cloak. The fabric tore easily, and as the knife pulled back he could see black threads clinging to the serrated blade.

_Well, at least this is more interesting._

Cool stone pressed against his back, and he knew he had to get into the open, away from the wall. He flung himself to the side and twisted around the blond man as Lucius raised the knife again. He tried to twist his body more to the side as the knife came down, but he was too late. The knife swung in a vicious arc, ripping through his cloak and shirt, slicing into his skin. Severus hissed at the line of fire blazing down his right torso.

"Damn it, Lucius! Calm yourself!" Rodolphus grabbed Lucius' knife hand and pulled him back, away from Severus. His friend's knuckles turned white as he pressed hard against the tendons in Lucius' wrist, causing the knife to fall from the blond man's grip. It rang loudly as it hit the stone floor. "The Dark Lord gave us orders, Malfoy – push the Call back! Merlin, man, you _mentored_ him yourself!"

But Lucius was too taken by the Call to listen. With a surprising show of strength he shoved Rodolphus aside and raised his wand. Severus let out a soft sigh and waited for the inevitable.

"I have been waiting for this, _friend. _Too bad your Mudblood couldn't be here to see it… _Avad_-"

"_Avada_ _Kedavra_!"

A green flash, a rushing sound, and Severus could feel it… could feel the pull of the Call, beckoning him…

…and then, nothing.

He opened his eyes and saw Rodolphus standing over the body of Lucius Malfoy. The blond man's eyes were unseeing, empty. Cold.

Dead.

Rodolphus took off his mask and stared down at Lucius while Severus retrieved his wand, grunting slightly as the movement opened the slash wound further. It wasn't deep, but it was painful. He had to get Rodolphus out of there, before another Order member appeared. Before he had to do something that would betray their friendship. Pulling off his own mask, his face beseeching, he began, "Rodolphus, you must-"

"And what have we here?" Severus closed his eyes in anguish at the voice. Only one voice was that raspy… only one person's gait had that peculiar thunking noise…

Alastor Moody.

There would be no way for him to spare Rodolphus, now.

None.

The Gods were laughing, no doubt.

A raised wand. "Mad-Eye Moody… this _is_ a prize, isn't it, Severus?"

Moody remained still, one eye on Severus and the other – the magical eye – fixed on Rodolphus. Severus hesitated a moment, but his decision had already been made. It had been made years before, when he knelt beside his father's body as the Dark Mark burned in his arm…

_You cannot bring back the dead._

…when he knelt before the Headmaster and drew two lines on his right side with a blade, adding to the two scars that already marred his skin…

_Once, as required by the Dark Lord. The second time, as required by my own resolve._

…when he whispered the counter-incantation to keep a young boy astride a bucking broomstick…

_I will do what I must._

… and now, when he stood before his friend and his old enemy, and raised his wand.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Rodolphus' wand flew from his hand and clattered against the stones. The man himself staggered backwards, catching himself on the opposite wall. He stared at Severus in confusion – for a heartbeat… or two… - before understanding dawned in his eyes. Severus steeled himself, waiting for the recriminations… the accusations… but they never came.

Rodolphus lay his head back against the wall and laughed.

Full, rich laughter… the sound of youth, of friendship, of loyalty…

…of brotherhood…

Moody, in an unusual show of restraint, remained where he stood and watched the tableau in silence. Finally the laughter diminished and Rodolphus said, "Very good, Severus. Very good. You have my congratulations." A mock bow. "You fooled us all."

"Don't make me do this, Rodolphus."

"You don't have a choice, friend. Or, rather, you have already made your choice." Rodolphus pushed away from the wall and stood silently before Severus. "Do it."

"You could-" Severus stopped. There was no point in continuing… the other man couldn't turn. Not now. Not after the atrocities he had committed. Azkaban would not be an option anymore, that was certain. And even if it was, he recalled Rodolphus' words when he escaped from Azkaban: _It was a horror, daily. Nothingness, nothing. Death would be preferable. Before I would return there, I would take my life. Mark my words._

Rodolphus nodded slowly. "You understand, don't you, my friend? My brother. Do it. Your final show of friendship. Don't let _them _have me."

Severus nodded silently and raised his wand.

"_Avada_ _Kedavra_."

The green flash, the rushing… but for once the Call remained silent… the only thing in Severus' mind an echo… an echo of his own voice, uttering the curse… killing his oldest friend… _Avada Kedavra_…

… and his own harsh whisper. "Farewell, brother."

Severus stood and looked down at Rodolphus' body, turning only when he heard the thunk-thunk of Moody approaching.

"Death Eater scum."

Severus turned fierce eyes on the old Auror, but subsided when Moody met his gaze evenly. "Evil and death… that's what he lived, Snape. Like calls to like."

_Like calls to like. Indeed, it does._

"May it not call to me or mine," Severus whispered.

Moody stared at him for a moment and then rasped, "Agreed."

A sudden sharp pain in his arm brought his attention away from the body in front of him. "I'm being Summoned."

"Go, then."

"Tell Hermione-"

"I know what to tell her, man. Go!"

With a wave of his wand, Severus Apparated to join the Dark Lord.

"My Lord." The wind began to blow more strongly.

"Rise, Severus." The Dark Lord stated. Severus obediently began to stand, carefully guarding himself against the upcoming invasion… his emotional state was shaky, at best, after what had just occurred with Rodolphus. As he straightened the caught the tatters of his shirt and cloak.

He felt the lick of cool air against his right side and his heart froze in fear. Casually, he tried to ease the remains of his shirt over the telltale scars.

"How goes the battle, Severus?"

"Well, my Lord. It is taking some time to flush out all of the Order members, but progress is being made. The battle goes well."

"I see." The Dark Lord tapped his wand against his chin, regarding Severus coldly. "I have had reports from Hogsmeade, but I have not received any word from Hogwarts." Bright red eyes pinned him in place. "Do you know why that might be, Severus?"

"No, my Lord."

The Dark Lord nodded thoughtfully. "Severus, my _loyal _servant… whom else do you serve?"

"None, my Lord." Severus bowed his head for a moment, his mind racing frantically.

"Interesting." The Dark Lord gestured behind him. "Wormtail, my servant, is missing. Lucius Malfoy is dead. Rodolphus Lestrange, dead. Draco Malfoy, dead. Which would not have raised my attention, as he is not an Inner Circle member, but for the fact that I sensed him killed at Hogwarts. And yet - you tell me the battle goes well."

"I am not aware-"

"You are not aware," the Dark Lord hissed. "And yet you appear before me, alive. Were you not teamed with Rodolphus for this?"

Severus swallowed. "Yes, my Lord."

The Dark Lord brought one long white finger to Severus' chin, lifting his head to stare directly into the powerful wizard's fiery red eyes. As the skeletal finger touched Severus' skin, he felt the telltale tingle of the personal wards that the Dark Lord maintained around his body. Those wards would have to be countermanded before any attempts to use the Patronus blade or the soul-detaching charm. He hoped Hermione rememb-

The invasion was sudden and brutal, his mind laid bare, his barriers barely holding against the assault from the Dark Lord's mind. A master Legilimens… a master of emotional Legilimency… pitted against a master of image Occlumency…

_Oh, Gods…_

…the images remained safe, but the emotional barrier crumbled just a tiny bit… just a minute amount… Severus frantically forced it back into place, but the momentary lapse was enough.

It was enough. The Dark Lord sensed it. The one defining emotion of this encounter… fear. The jolt of fear as he stood and felt the cool wind hit his right side just minutes ago.

The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed and he withdrew from Severus' mind abruptly, leaving the black-haired man gasping for air. "Whom else do you serve?"

"None, my Lo-" In a sudden movement, the Dark Lord reached one emaciated hand out and grabbed Severus' tattered cloak, ripping it away from his body. A wave of pure panic washed through Severus and he tried to back away even as the Dark Lord succeeded in clawing his shirt away from his skin. The wind blew fiercely, whipping the ragged shreds of cloth to the side.

Thinking furiously, Severus said, "My Lord, Dumbledore demanded-"

"Silence!" The Dark Lord yelled. "What else are you hiding, _loyal _servant?"

Severus tried to shake his head but was unable to move as the Dark Lord's eyes shot to his left shoulder. The shirt had blown almost completely off by this time and the blood bond marking was plainly visible.

There would be no excuse, no story he could come up with to explain that away… the marking of a Mudblood… as Lucius had pointed out when he had Severus under his control, it was evidence of his ultimate betrayal…

"The Mudblood marked you? And you allowed this to occur?" One bony finger came out to trace the blood mark, and a searing pain tore through Severus' body. He bit the inside of his cheek to hold back a scream and the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.

"My… My Lord," Severus began, knowing it was futile and yet unable to stop himself. To have come so far… and then have to give it all up because of Malfoy's knife work… _He's killed me after all. Well done, Lucius. Well done._

"_Crucio_!"

As Severus fell to the ground, writhing, every nerve ending on fire, one thought repeated itself… again and again…

_Gods, Hermione… don't let Hermione come…_

-----

"Harry, wait! When Severus gets back, we can find out when the Dark Lord plans to arrive. Until then, we should stay here like Moody told us." Hermione tried to sound confident, but the emotions she had begun to sense via the blood bond were difficult to ignore. Desperation was the overriding feeling, which was not unexpected, but there was something else she had rarely felt from Severus.

Fear.

"I'm tired of this, Hermione! Tired of sitting around, waiting for him to attack! We should-" Suddenly, Harry stopped and brought a hand to his forehead, wincing.

"Harry, what's wrong? Is it your sca-" The words stuck in Hermione's throat as pain lanced through the blood bond… her mark burned and she stumbled with a gasp. "Oh, Gods, Severus…"

"He's with Voldemort!" Harry exclaimed, rubbing his forehead. "What happened?"

"Harry – the blood mark – I've got to go to him, he's in pain, he's…" Two strong hands gripped her upper arms and Harry's eyes bore into hers. She was unable to look away, pinned by those green eyes… so lovely, so determined…

"How does that blood thing work? Can you go to him? Do you know where he is?"

"Yes! Yes!" _Oh, Gods… oh, Gods…_

"Can you Apparate us both?" Fawkes landed on his shoulder, digging his claws in tightly.

"Yes!"

Harry nodded and shook out the Invisibility Cloak, draping it over their shoulders. It wasn't much, but perhaps it would allow them to arrive in secrecy. "Good. Now, are you ready? Do you have the spells ready? The ward reducers, the soul-"

"YES! Now, hold on to me!" Harry put his arms around her and she found herself face-to-foot with Fawkes. She assumed the phoenix would Apparate with Harry, but just in case she reached her left hand up and grasped his claw. With her other hand, she pulled out her wand and the three disappeared with a pop.

A field.

They were in an empty field.

Empty except for some figures standing several paces away. It appeared he had thrown most of his force against Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, only maintaining a skeleton guard. Four… they could handle four easily. Hurriedly Hermione raised her wand and created an Anti-Apparition ward around the perimeter along with some more basic shields… once the Dark Lord recognized Harry, he would try to call his Death Eaters to him.

She didn't intend for them to intervene.

Another wave of pain lanced through her and she looked over to see her husband, his torso bare, twisting on the ground in front of the Dark Lord. _Crucio._

"Hermione, keep the cloak. Wait for the right time… he needs to be disarmed before I can attack with the blade," Harry whispered. She nodded her head.

"You know the incantation to permanently bind his soul to the blade, right, Harry?"

"Yes. _And_ the spell to separate it from his body… but you've got to get his personal wards down first. Now, are you ready?"

"Go, Harry!"

Harry set off at a run toward the two figures, Hermione – still wrapped in the Invisibility Cloak - following close behind. Fawkes left his perch on Harry's shoulder and flew above their heads, waiting for a moment when his services would be needed.

"_Stupefy_! _Stupefy_!" Two of the Death Eater guards went down silently. The others were watching the torture so intently that they didn't notice their brethren falling to the ground. The final two fell just as silently.

It was too easy. It seemed all too easy.

The Dark Lord turned from his torture of Severus and smiled coldly as he saw Harry approach. No surprise showed on his face. "Welcome, Potter.

Severus coughed into the grass, his back muscles convulsing. Hermione ached to go to him, but she didn't dare… she had to wait… to wait for the right time… She held onto the cloak tightly, not wanting the wind to pull it from her and expose her before it was time.

It was the strange, little things that she noticed as the duel raged in front of her – the small details that seemed to spring to the front of her mind, engaging her attention in the most compelling way. The way the ground sprayed into the air in tiny clumps as misfired hexes hit it… the flash of red feathers as Fawkes fought to keep his balance… the way the wind picked up their robes and blew them out like capes in flight… the way the small yellow wildflowers bent in the wind, only to spring back up when it fell silent once more…

It shouldn't be daylight. It should be night, dusk, dark… it shouldn't be this blissfully bright day; this cheerful yellow and blue sky shouldn't be the background for this…

Lights passed back and forth as she circled warily, rarely moving her eyes from the two men. Severus, she saw with relief, had crawled away from the duelers, taking shelter behind one of the Stunned Death Eaters.

They were both amazingly powerful… she had never realized, never fully comprehended the extent of Harry's abilities. He was quicker than lightning, many of his spells not even requiring the words of an incantation but merely driven by his force of will. _Gods… _She had book knowledge, and she was powerful, but this… this raw ability completely awed her.

A weapon. Honed and prepared carefully for battle.

That was what Harry was.

Finally, the weapon proved its worth. Two spells, thrown in quick succession, succeeded in creating a hole in the Dark Lord's defensive spells and Harry was able to get through a simple, yet effective, shot.

_"Expelliarmus!"_

The Dark Lord's wand flew from his hand and he snarled, turning to lunge for it. Hermione darted forward, heedless of the wind's effects on the Invisibility Cloak, and cried, "_Accio _wand!" A moment later, she held the Dark Lord's wand in her hand.

"Now, Hermione! Now!" Harry screamed, already running towards the powerful wizard with the Patronus blade out. She saw his lips moving and his wand tap the blade, preparing it as the permanent binding site of the Dark Lord's soul… if they could get it separated from his body… and before they could do that, she had to bring down his personal wards.

She knew, from her readings and Severus' information, that he would use the most powerful physical wards available. She would have to be close enough for her wand to actually make contact with the ward barrier in order to bring it down. Watching carefully, seeing the Dark Lord's attention fixated on Harry, she darted forward and cried out the incantation, touching her glowing wand to the back of his shoulder.

An instant later, Harry thrust the Patronus blade into the Dark Lord's chest and yelled the incantation to begin the ritual… to separate his soul from his body. A greenish-blue light began to form at the Dark Lord's chest and an anguished wail came from the emaciated form… the light moved away from the blade and the Dark Lord writhed, his arms flailing outwards…

…and Hermione's skin came in contact with his…

…a greenish-blue glow filled her vision, and she felt herself being… _filled_… like an oily fog, sliding into her…

_This isn't right! This isn't supposed to happen!_

The soul has been separated.

But it had not yet been bound to the blade… it would be separated forever until they finished the incantation to bind it to the blade…

_Or bind it to me! _

Frantically, she struggled up through the fog. "Harry! No! Don't cast it! He's…" Her vocal cords spasmed as the other presence in her rose… as it took control over her body… for a moment only…

"Thank you for the new body, boy." It was Hermione's voice… and yet it wasn't… Harry looked at her in horror and she struggled to the top… she took control over her voice again and shouted, "I can't… I can't push him out, Harry! The sword, the blade! You have to trap him in it!"

Harry pulled the blade from the Dark Lord's body, which now lay crumpled on the ground.

"It's prepared already, stab me and finish the incantation!" Hermione struggled to remain on top, fighting the green fog… her voice grew smaller as she began to sink within herself. "Kill me, Harry – the sword… trap him…"

"NO!" From the corner of her eyes, she could see Severus struggling to his feet.

The other presence rose up in a rush and said in a rough voice so like her own, "No, girl – stay where you belong…" It tried to push her back down, but she fought, clawing with her mind, with her will, to rise back up to the surface…

Harry's voice was frantic. "The sword is spelled to Voldemort only, but Hermione - what if you get pulled in, too?"

"I won't, Harry. Do it," Hermione managed.

"NO!" It was Severus' voice. She turned her head haltingly to look at him.

Hermione saw Severus through eyes that were rapidly being taken over by the other presence in her mind… the green fog was building… building… her own soul, shrinking, drowning… suffocating… and then…

…a red haze grew… expanded… her soul could breathe again… the red haze hit the edge of the green fog and _pushed_… Hermione struggled to the top again and reached out, her arm moving jerkily, and grabbed the blade. Harry gasped, shaking his head, and she followed his gaze to see blood dripping from her fingers. The pain… Gods, the pain… the Call… the red haze - the Call! It was helping her, saving her… and in return, she _knew_… she _knew _what it expected of her… pain, blood, the Blood Rites, the Call…

_Finalize the bridge…_

_Finalize the link…_

Pulling the blade to her chest, her head swam as Voldemort continued to try to take control… every now and then the red haze would be pushed back, letting the green billow up… and every time, her grip tightened on the blade and the wash of fresh blood from her cuts rejuvenated the power of the Call, pushing back the green.

With one hand, she pulled open her robes, exposing her flesh to the cool air. With the other hand, she pulled the tip of the blade to her skin, over her breastbone, and drew a long, straight line across it. Distantly she heard a scream from Severus… but she couldn't make out the words… gasping denials from Harry… Harry… Savior of the Wizarding World… she looked into his green eyes and smiled.

"Payment Offered. Blood Accepted," she intoned, feeling the Call course into her, eager in its impatience… "Do it, Harry. You have to do it."

"Hermione!" Tears? Were those tears in his eyes… the silly boy… eyes are so pretty… so pretty… so green… green… green…

Her vocal cords were no longer her own. Her voice came out, guttural and uneven, the tones and modulation nothing like her own even cadence. "No, boy – you don't want your friend killed, do you? Particularly not by your own hand. You wouldn't betray her like this… not the loyal Harry Potter."

Hermione struggled… struggled… fought against the green fog even as her head was turned to face Severus. "Snape – blood traitor… this Mudblood means much to you, doesn't she? Help me, and I will give her back to yo-"

The sight of Severus gave her the jolt of energy she needed to push Voldemort back down… the red haze roiled wildly, specks of green fog beginning to show in the gaps… "Harry, please, I can't keep us separate much longer…" Harry began to shake his head, but she stopped him. "Harry, listen to me! Betrayal brings hope, loyalty bring ruin… this was foretold… it has to be… the incantation still holds on the blade… trap him… do it. Do it."

She watched as Harry closed his eyes, bowing his head. His fingers tightened their grip on the hilt and her fingers, still weeping blood, covered his. In a whisper, he said, "I'm sorry, Severus."

"No!!!" The raw scream from Severus shattered the stillness. From the corner of her eye, she saw him struggle back to his feet and lurch towards them.

Too late.

A small hesitation. A quick thrust. A sucking feeling… a greenish-blue glow moved from her to the blade… glowing… glowing…

And then the sucking feeling was gone…

In its place was pain… pain like she had never known…

Green eyes, tear-filled, haunted…

She began to fall… the hilt pulled from her friend's hand…

Black eyes stared from an ashen face… falling… she fell…

Her fingers slipped from the oddly warm hilt… slick with blood… she fell…

It was like floating… she hit the ground, the point of the blade catching on the ground beneath her back… the blade slid out a few finger widths from her breast…

A shaking hand reached up… red-filled… blood… liquid blood… dripping down… the red haze grew… it was her own hand, her own hand grasping the hilt and pulling the blade from her own chest…

It slid from her body with a wet, sucking sound… it still glowed… Harry, Harry you have to finalize it… Wait… you did, I was there… I am there… the Dark Lord will be dead… the Dark Lord is dead… is dead…

She was being lifted… floating, again… but the ground was so soft, so nice… the floating is nice, but someone keeps talking… make them stop… the dark is nice and warm and comfortable…

A choked voice, speaking to her again, "Hermione… love… hold on…"

Hold on… to what? She reached out and touched the ashen face, her eyes opening wider as she saw blood… her hand… blood… the red haze grew, gave her strength… and then she saw blood – solid blood – blood in flight – it landed on her chest – it sung…

Blood singing, singing, crying for her… the crystal tear dripped onto her chest… blood is crying for me… why is blood crying for me?

_They have paid. You have made them pay._

She could breathe again… she sucked in air, beautiful air, and coughed… wings flapped in her face at the movement and she blinked.

Fawkes.

Phoenix tears.

She began to laugh. She laughed until tears fell from her cheek.

Someone else was laughing… no, wait. No… not laughing. The body she was leaning against was shaking… _Severus…_shaking with sobs. Her laughter died, but the smile remained on her face… a remnant of her laughter, just like the red haze lingering in the back of her mind was a remnant of her newly-forged linkage to the Call.

Sitting up with a small groan, Hermione turned stiffly and wrapped her arms around her husband, holding him as tightly as her weakened muscles would allow. She felt like she had been chewed up by a Hippogriff and spit out again. She felt like she had taken a hundred bludgers to the body. She felt…

…she felt wonderful.

Severus was alive. Harry was alive. She was alive.

Severus' arms tightened around her and she gasped out a laugh once again. "You did say it would be better for me to die, than follow the path that you took," she said, her laughter changing to a cough. He didn't speak, just shook his head and held her tightly.

"Severus… I feel it. Even now… will it always be like this?"

"Gods… I don't know. I don't know." Severus opened his eyes and stared at her, still a touch of disbelief in his expression. "No one has ever performed the Blood Rites on themselves before. That I know of… Gods, Hermione… You might. You might feel it like this all the time – is it unbearable?"

"No… just… _there_."

Severus let out a relieved sigh. "The linkage was completed, but the bridge is small, then." His eyes snapped and he stared at her fiercely. She swallowed, confused by this change of demeanor. "I love you, do you understand that? I love you, Gods… don't you _ever_ do anything like that again…"

"I'll try not to." She grinned and opened her mouth to say more when she heard a voice from behind her.

"_Stupefy."_

Releasing Severus, she turned and saw her friend slump over onto the ground, his glasses falling next to him. _Oh, Gods… what now?_ She didn't even have the energy to reach for her wand as Severus shifted to put himself between her and the approaching figure.

The black-robed figure stopped next to Harry's unconscious form before reaching up and pulling off the mask.

_Viktor._

"Vell, isn't this a cozy scene?"

Hermione finally found her voice. "Viktor - what are you doing? Why did you Stun Harry? What-"

Viktor cut her off. "Vat am I doing? Vell, you all here haff so kindly removed my two largest problems… now I only haff vun other problem to take care of." Viktor's black eyes, now cold and hard, shifted to Severus. "This problem is a more personal vun." He steadied his wand.

Hermione's eyes widened as it hit her… she finally realized Viktor's motivations. "No!" She scrambled in front of Severus, covering him with her body. He protested angrily, trying to push her away, out of harm's way, but she clung to him… she knew – she hoped – that Viktor wouldn't strike while she was in the line of fire. She craned her neck to stare at the black-robed man, letting out a relieved breath when she saw his hesitation. Severus must have seen it, also, because he stopped trying to remove her from his person.

Viktor's hand trembled. "Get out of the vay. You may haff been forced into this, but I can help you."

Hermione shook her head. "No – Viktor… No. It was my choice. You'll have to kill me, too."

Viktor's eyes darkened and Severus' wand arm tensed. "Get off of me, Hermione."

"No, Severus," she said, turning to look him in the eye. "He saved my life. From Draco. Don't." Severus' eyes narrowed but he nodded infinitesimally.

"I vill save you again, Hermione. Come vith me. You do not haff to show him loyalty any longer."

"No, Viktor. If he's going to be dead, then I'm dead with him." Hermione turned her head once again, ignoring the pained muscle in her neck as she looked at Viktor. "I love him, Viktor."

Viktor hesitated again before raising his wand… his arm shook… his eyes blinked rapidly… _holding back tears? Gods… I hadn't known… I hadn't known…what could have changed, had I known? _Slowly, Viktor's shaking hand lowered and he shook his head slowly. "You know me too vell. I only vanted to be vith you… any vay I could… but…" Viktor laughed self-deprecatingly and said thickly, "I haff alvays luffed you, Hermione. Goodbye." Turning, Viktor walked to the body of the Dark Lord and stood silently, looking down at it. To Hermione's surprise, he bent and picked up the corpse and turned to face Severus. "Take care of her."

Severus nodded silently and they both watched as Viktor Disapparated with the body of the Dark Lord.

The field was silent, but for the wind. She could hear her own breathing as she clutched Severus to her… his heartbeat under her ear.

Then the silence was broken by a loud flapping of wings. Fawkes, with a reproachful glance at the two conscious humans, landed on Harry's chest and began to sing.

Phoenix song washed over them, reviving them, energizing them.

Harry's eyes opened, and Fawkes flapped up to his shoulder as he groaned and sat up, clutching his head. Severus sneered. "Oh, wipe that self-important look off your face, bird. He was only Stunned." Fawkes looked at Severus with a definite gleam of amusement in his eye and then took off, disappearing with a pop. Hermione frowned, the Phoenix song's refreshing effect on her mind making her realize something.

"Viktor Disapparated… now Fawkes… my wards are down?"

"They've been down, ever since Voldemort…" Harry's voice trailed off. "I would Apparate, but I'm pretty damned sure I'd splinch right now. Your old boyfriend packs a rough Stunner, Hermione."

"I'm sure the phoenix has gone to get help, Potter," Severus said dryly, clutching Hermione to his chest more tightly. She wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes.

"It's over, isn't it? It's really over."

"Yes, Potter. It's over," Severus said with none of his usual rancor. "And I've been far more fortunate than I ever had hope of being."

Hermione lifted her head and stared into his eyes, black, warm, open… the eyes of her lover, her friend, her mentor, _her husband_…

Popping noises announced the arrival of Mediwizards and Aurors and Order members, but Hermione and Severus ignored the rushing feet as their lips met with a feverish joy.

_And I've been far more fortunate than I ever had hope of being._

__

_"The key to ensure light over shadows prevail__  
Is in the blood of the friend, bound in red  
From dark to light, from despair to hope  
From stag to blade, from blade to flesh  
Betrayal brings hope, loyalty brings ruin  
Blood rites will conquer the shadow  
And the Dark Lord will be dead."

* * *

_

A/N: Whew. I hope the ending didn't disappoint… There will be an epilogue, posted at the LATEST by next Tuesday night. A sequel? Maybe. No time soon, though. I am going to start on my original fiction in earnest now, though I will probably pop into HP fanfic every now and then with a one-shot, short story, or a PWP when I've got awful writer's block ;). I don't expect to start writing any long fanfictions anytime soon, however. But I will definitely be reading!!!

Thank you so much to everyone for the feedback and wonderful response this story has received. Your comments, emails, posts, and reviews have really been flattering and thought provoking, definitely very helpful as I try to hone my writing skills.

Next week I'll post the House Points, as many of you have requested I do, at the end of the epilogue. I apologize for my long author's notes, as I know many of you might find it irritating. That is why I did it at the end of the chapters, however, so you didn't have to wade through them unless you wanted to. There are people who are irritated by it and people who are irritated when the author never acknowledges reviews – can't make everyone happy so I did what I thought best. Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing, thanks for recommending, and thanks for telling me when I screwed up. As always, tell me if there are mistakes in this chapter – I always look to improve, and that kind of feedback is invaluable. It's a long chapter, it's late, and my mind does funny tricks on me with long chapters late at night :).

And pleeeeez review! (If you have any questions or if there's something you're unclear on, please post it in a review or email me. I will answer as soon as possible – though some things will be answered in the epilogue or were left ambiguous on purpose.)


	27. Epilogue

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Anything you recognize from JK Rowling's books is not mine. Anything you don't recognize is either mine or a typical fanfiction plot device. **The Call of the Blood and the concepts associated with it – as a package, not as individual elements - are my creations, not the creations of JK Rowling – please email me if you wish to use them or a derivative of them in a story. **

Partly inspired by the Marriage Law Challenge on WIKTT. See Chapter 1 for full disclaimer. Author's Notes at the end.   
**_Warning:_**This fic is SS/HG and includes character death, descriptions of abuse, and adult situations.   
  
**Cloak of Courage**

WendyNat

Chapter 27 - Epilogue

----------------------

_The key to ensure light over shadows prevail…_

It was two days after the battle.

Two days, and the Headmaster's office looked exactly the way it always had, aside from the scrying glasses that still lay on the table. Fawkes sat on his perch, blinking at her. The bowl of sherbet lemons sat on Albus' desk, tempting her.

Two days, and so much had changed. Hogsmeade was slowly rebuilding, but it would take time. Even with magic. Unfortunately, some things could not be rebuilt. The knowledge of those deaths weighed heavily on them, but there was little they could have done to prevent it. As it was, thanks to Severus' information, the Ministry had been able to send a significant number of Aurors to protect the town.

Two days, and Hermione was already shocked by a new plan from Albus Dumbledore. Not an unpleasant shock, surely, but a shock nonetheless. She had come to his office for their scheduled meeting and had been mildly surprised to see Minerva already seated in front of the large desk. She had smiled and sat down, and then… _No, best not to think of that, Hermione, _she thought sternly.

"It's his final decision… or so he claims," Minerva said, the smile evident in her voice as she winked at the Headmaster. He tried to scowl at her but was unsuccessful.

Glancing at Minerva, she shook her head. "But…"

"At the end of the next school year, Minerva will become Head of Hogwarts. And, if you desire it, the position of Transfiguration professor will be yours." The weak sound of the Headmaster's voice worried her, though Madam Pomfrey had assured them all that he would make a complete recovery.

At least he had been released from the infirmary and was once again seated behind his formidable desk. Hermione, who had been ordered to a day of bed rest to recover from her own injuries, hadn't had the opportunity to visit him there. Thankfully. She didn't think she could handle seeing the strong wizard lying underneath white sheets, frail-looking without his magnificent robes. Severus had visited him and when she asked, had said, _He looks old, lying there. I don't like it. _Though his voice had been blank, the blood mark roiled with emotion. Yes, she was thankful that she hadn't seen that. It had been difficult enough seeing Remus there that morning.

The werewolf had finally been able to fulfill his heart's desire… Pettigrew was dead. By Remus' hand. But not without leaving a rather significant injury behind. Hermione was still a little foggy about the details, but Pettigrew had done _something_ with that unnatural silver arm that injured Remus rather severely. Madam Pomfrey had initially wanted to transfer him to St. Mungo's but he had refused. Hermione understood. There was little they could do at St. Mungo's that Madam Pomfrey wasn't capable of doing – no matter who worked on it, he would still not regain the use of his arm.

Luckily, it wasn't his wand arm.

The sound of a clearing throat brought her back to the present. "Oh… I'm sorry, Headmaster. I was just-"

"It has only been two days, Hermione. It's completely understandable, my dear." Albus sat back and looked at her keenly. At least the ambush he had endured when he helped defend Hogsmeade after Voldemort's defeat hadn't dulled his wits. "How do you feel?"

Hermione shook her head slowly. "Strange. I don't… I don't know how to describe it. Strange, but comfortable… like this is how I was supposed to be. I think the…" She glanced at Minerva and forged ahead, "I think the Call has always been meant for me, Albus. It's a part of me…"

"Well, it does appear that we were fortunate in that respect. From what you told me of your impressions-"

_And what I didn't tell you… _Hermione thought sourly. She was still irritated by the Headmaster's use of Legilimency on her when she first arrived in the office.

Albus acknowledging her thought with a small nod. "I wish there had been another way to be sure, child, but as Headmaster of this school my first priority is the safety of the students."

She inclined her head reluctantly, signaling her understanding. Albus Dumbledore did what needed to be done: always. Which was, in fact, a good thing… who knew what would have happened had he not insisted – sometimes overtly, sometimes indirectly – that Hermione be involved in the final battle? That Severus continue his spying duties? That Harry be kept ignorant of the facts?

That she succumb to the Call?

_It certainly all worked out in the end, _she thought, looking into the Headmaster's eyes.

Albus smiled at her then, a bright, genuine smile. She couldn't help the smile that grew on her own face as his eyes twinkled at her from beneath white eyebrows.

--

_Is in the blood of the friend, bound in red_… 

After leaving the Headmaster's office, Hermione took a short detour by the lake. Stepping out into the crisp cold air, she shivered in delight. Snow on the ground, clear blue sky, birds chattering… it all lifted her spirits. Including the memory of a redheaded young man who placed friendship above all else.

"Thank you, Ron," she whispered, her breath forming a white fog in the air. Fog… an image of a red fog and a green fog, fighting for dominance, flashed through her mind. Thank Merlin the red fog had been there to help her. Who would have known? Who would have thought? The Call had actually protected her. Ron's blood, the Book of the Blood, the book that had forged her initial link to the Call had protected her.

Who would have thought, indeed?

She sat down in the snow, staring at the lake. Who would have thought any of this would happen? It was beyond anyone's imagination, surely… although it would be impossible to talk to Lavender and Parvati for some time. Once they find out that Lavender's prophecy was, in fact, a true prophecy, they would be ridiculously self-satisfied with their reliance on Divination.

She rubbed at the Blood Rites scar through her robes. A true prophecy, indeed.

Shaking her head, she stood and started back to the castle.

--

_From dark to light, from despair to hope…_

Entering their chambers, Hermione squinted. Severus had doused most of the candles, and the room was rather dim. She had felt a sort of sadness through the bond as she approached their chambers and she moved quietly so as not to disturb him. He was sitting in one of the armchairs, his head bowed, seemingly staring at the book sitting in his lap.

As she approached from behind, she saw his hand stroking something on the page before him. It was a photo album… wizarding photos… and one long finger was running along the edge of one photo. It was of a younger Severus and Rodolphus, standing in their Slytherin robes, waving at the camera. Neither one was smiling, but their stern faces often broke into smirks as they waved decorously from the picture.

Hermione smiled sadly and put her hands on his shoulder. He sighed and shut the book. "Severus?" She rubbed his shoulders, pressing into the tense muscles and was pleased when he leaned into her touch.

"Reminiscing."

"You were friends for a very long time."

"Yes."

She continued to knead his shoulders and eventually his head fell back against her chest as he let out a soft sigh. Slowly, she moved her hands down his shoulders and to his chest, stroking slowly. Unfastening his robes, her hands slid underneath the cloth and met bare skin. She was unable to hold back a low moan as she caressed the warm, smooth skin and hard, lean muscles.

As if awakened by the sound, Severus' hands reached up and pulled hers away. He stood and dragged her around the chair, pressing against her, kissing her demandingly. She twined her arms around his neck, getting lost in the feel of his lips on hers, his tongue moving over hers… she felt a warm heat begin in her lower stomach as the deft movements of his tongue reminded her of his skills in that regard. With shaking hands, she helped him pull his clothes off before he grabbed her and spun her around, pressing against her from behind as he loosened the catch on her robes.

The burgundy cloth was flung away forcefully, as were her dress and underclothes, and then hands kneaded her breasts, fingers trailed down her stomach to tease between her legs. She couldn't hold back a gasp as his finger pressed into her and with an inarticulate growl, Severus spun her back around and lifted her by the hips, throwing her onto the couch.

They ended on the floor beside the couch, Severus collapsed beside her, panting heavily. She crept up to rest her head on his chest, listening to the hammering of his heart as they both slowly relaxed. His arms tightened around her and she smiled, draping on leg over his. They would be expected in the Great Hall for dinner, but until then… a nap. And then… maybe something else.__

_--  
From stag to blade, from blade to flesh…_

They did make it to dinner in the Great Hall on time, thanks to Severus' back protesting their location on the floor. She had felt a bit of guilt when she saw the bruise she had caused by flinging him to the floor, but he had just smirked at her in that _way _of his and told her not to worry about it.

So she didn't.

After dinner in the Great Hall, Harry asked her to go on a short walk with him. He was returning to the Burrow the next day and they hadn't had much of a chance to speak since the battle. She looked over at Severus, who was engrossed in a conversation about the respective abilities of the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch, and she could tell by the outraged look on Minerva's face that he was enjoying himself immensely.

Stepping outside, their feet automatically drew them down the path to Hagrid's hut as they spoke. The half-giant wasn't there – he was lending his strength to the cleanup effort in Hogsmeade and wasn't expected back for a few days. Hermione had a suspicion that there was more to it than simple generosity of spirit – not that Hagrid was lacking in that respect, of course – but she thought the rather large-boned woman who had opened a small eatery in Hogsmeade the month before might have more to do with his decision.

"It's like I was telling Ginny before the battle… I feel like my father was watching, waiting for me to finally do it. Finally kill him. And I did… with his help."

"The stag. Your Patronus," Hermione whispered.

"Right. And… with my best friends' help. Both of you." Harry pulled her into a hug and she returned it, blinking back tears as he spoke. "I still miss Ron, but it seems… I dunno. Like it meant something, now. Since we were successful. Does that make any sense?"

Hermione pulled back to look him in the eye. "I think it makes perfect sense. I… I thought about him earlier, and it didn't hurt as much. Maybe that's why."

Harry bent down to pick up a colorful stone from the walkway. "I wonder if it's the same for the Weasleys? For Ginny?"

"I… I don't know. Maybe. I hope so." Hermione swallowed. "Tell… tell Ginny hello for me, Harry. It seems like ages since I've talked to her, and you'll see her before I do. When you visit the Burrow."

"I will. I was thinking about going with Neville to visit his parents first. They've made some big improvements, you know. His mum was able to talk to him for a little while yesterday. He owled me about it. And I'm… I'm able to travel now, without a major entourage. It'll be nice. Visit Diagon Alley, maybe go into Muggle London…" Harry's eyes shone and Hermione smiled at the pure delight she saw in them.

"You're free, now, Harry. Free."

Harry stopped and turned to face her. "So are you, Hermione. If… I mean, I know what you said. But now that the war's over, now that you don't really have to be bound to him anymore – are you sure?"

"I'm sure, Harry." Hermione smiled up at her friend. "I love him. And… well. We have a lot in common. One thing in particular… no one else could understand."

"I think I do, Hermione." The tone was oddly pensive and she glanced at him questioningly. He turned away, looking out across the field to Hagrid's hut. "I… had a link with Voldemort, through the scar. I guess it's some sort of blood marking, in a way. Like what you had – have - with Snape, but not so strong. And…"

"Harry, what are you trying to say?"

Harry turned back to her. "I _know_, Hermione. I know, because I felt it. I felt it when he was in you, when you were fighting… I felt the Call. I felt it before, too, but I didn't know what it was, then."

"Gods… Harry, do you still feel it?" Hermione grasped his arm urgently.

Harry shook his head. "No – when Voldemort was pulled into the blade it stopped. And I didn't feel it directly, just… the effects, I suppose." Raising a hand, he pulled a wisp of hair out of her face. "Be careful, Hermione."

Hermione sighed in relief. "I will be, Harry. Severus is helping."

Harry nodded and smiled before offering her his arm. "Then can I escort you back to the castle, Mrs. Snape?"

Giggling, Hermione took his arm. "Of course."

_--  
Betrayal brings hope, loyalty brings ruin…_

In the deep hours of the night, Hermione lay in bed, staring blankly at the deep purple bed curtains. Her mind was racing and, try as she might to stop its fervent movement, she was unable to settle. She lay beside her husband, enjoying his warm breath on her cheek, and tried one last time to relax. Sadly, relaxation wouldn't come.

_The Call… damn it, _she thought to herself, climbing out of the bed. It still felt, sometimes, like a splinter in her skin… a tiny, thin splinter, just large enough to irritate but not large enough to cause actual pain. Except this splinter was in her mind.

Padding into the study, she lit a single candle and sat on the couch. Eyeing the journal that lay on the table in front of her, she lifted an eyebrow. _Why not? _Maybe if she got some of these thoughts that were roiling in her head down on paper, they'd leave her alone. With a shrug, she reached for a quill, opened the journal, and began to write.

_The last couple of days have been both the fastest and slowest of my life. So much to take in, so many people to check on, to see if they're still alive and unhurt… I feel strangely lucky that so many of my friends are still healthy and living. I know how lucky I feel that Severus survived… and that I survived. And Harry… who would suspect Harry AND Albus would both survive? Though I think the entire situation has taken too much from the Headmaster. He's retiring at the end of next year and has asked me to be the Transfiguration professor. I think I'll do it, for now. I can use Severus' method of keeping the Call at bay that way… the students already think I'm mean, and with the last name I now bear… well. It goes with the territory, doesn't it?_

_At least I'll still be an apprentice for a year. That should give me time to revive my parents' campaign against this law. I know it worked out for me, but I think I was just lucky. Unbelievably lucky. If Severus didn't help me, I would be Mrs. Malfoy. Well, I'd be dead, more likely. Anyway, now that Severus is out of danger, I can do something about it. Get this stupid law repealed. It shouldn't take long. I think. _

_I need to stop thinking about it… thinking about it makes me angry and now when I get angry… it's almost too much sometimes. I'm glad Severus is here to help. It's more than I thought, keeping this under control, but at the same time I can't imagine me without this feel. I know that doesn't make any sense, but it protected me when I needed it to. And now, I'm paying it back. _

_Is this just a diary, now that they're gone? Or will Viktor still see what I write? I doubt it… I don't see why he'd be interested, now that the initial purpose has been met. Or not met, I suppose I should say. Though… maybe Viktor had always planned this – that I be kept safe, whatever the cost. _

_I'll likely never know. He's gone into hiding, or so Severus guesses… if any other Death Eaters found out about his protection of me… if any found out about his murder of Draco… there could be trouble. And then, Voldemort's body (I haven't thought of him as the Dark Lord ever since he entered my body… strange, really) – his body. Why did Viktor take it? All I can think of is what Severus said to me once: "There are many blood rituals, many blood magics." _

_Gods. I hope he isn't planning anything that could harm him. I won't forget him, or what he did to help me. Even if he did go about it in a bit of a misguided way, he truly seemed to care for me. And I'll always remember him._

With a sigh, she made to close the journal but stopped with a gasp. Handwriting began to appear on the page, immediately under her last line. Her eyes went wide as she stared at the familiar script.

**_Yes. I do care for you. If anyone hurts you, I will be ready._**

****

Quickly lifting the quill again, she wrote, _Viktor? Are you there? _

**_Remember._**

****

She stared at the single word, her heart beating loudly in her ears. Raising the quill with shaking hands, she wrote a single word back.

_Viktor?_

She waited several minutes, but there was no reply. Tears formed in her eyes as she wrote one final line on the page.

_I will._

Slowly, she shut the journal and stared at it. She was shaking, but not from fear. Some odd mixture of emotions coursed through her… guilt, sadness, hope… she needed Severus.

--

_Blood rites will conquer the shadow_

"What are you doing?"

Hermione didn't move. "Writing…" Glancing up at him, she smiled slightly at his rumpled form. _He came when I needed him_… "I couldn't sleep. It was… under my skin."

"I understand."

"I know you do… thank you, Severus." Sighing she sat back on the couch. "I should have just used Avada Kedavra… it wouldn't have been so strong of a link, that way. Except…"

"Except?"

"The protection… maybe if I were already linked to it wouldn't have given me as much help, when Voldemort…" Hermione's voice trailed off. "You said it had a will to propagate. I think… I think it wanted me, and that's why it helped me fight."

"Perhaps. You're young, female, bound to another of the Call… it makes sense."

"I know. And I saw… I saw the red, the red haze… when the green almost overwhelmed me, it came and helped me. And then, when I was… well, after, you know, after I fell, when you were holding me… I was about to go under I think, and it came, gave me energy." Hermione frowned. "You know, something Minerva said… a long while back. Or it seemed to be a long while back, at least. _No experience is entirely negative_. She was right."

"True."

Hermione sat silently, chewing her lip. There was something that had been nagging at her the past two days. "Severus… I didn't die. So how was it the Blood Rites? I tho-"

"You did, to be accurate. Your heart stopped. I… felt it." Severus' voice was very carefully controlled, but she could feel the riot of emotions through the blood bond. "If Fawkes… if the Call hadn't pushed you back… if Fawkes hadn't been there…"

"Oh, Merlin… Severus, that's why… is that why you cried? I've never seen you cry before…" Her stomach clenched at the thought.

And then strong hands fell on her shoulders, squeezing lightly. Warm, grounding.

The soft, silky voice. "Nor are you likely to, ever again."

The voice that grounded her, the love that grounded her. Placing the book on the table and laying the quill on top of it, she gave it one last glance before standing and catching Severus' hands in her own.

"I love you."

A smirk. "Come to bed."

With a smile, she followed him to the bedroom. The door shut firmly behind them.

_  
And the Dark Lord will be dead._

The End.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reading and reviewing. I sincerely hope you enjoyed the story, and thank you for all of your support and for continuing to read. (Note - extended edition of this scene can be found at lordandladysnape.net under the author name "WendyNat") There are a few links I want to share with you before my final "goodbye" – (to use these links, cut and paste into your browser and REMOVE spaces. Fanfic.net does not allow links, even without the www prefix, to appear correctly) Cloak FanArt:

Snapesforte has done a large amount of fanart for Cloak of Courage. Once I've gone through and polished up some minor typos and some word choices I'm not pleased with still, and once she's completed the scenes she wishes to illustrate, an illustrated version of Cloak of Courage will be posted at her website: www. designerpotions. com /ss/

You can see her completed Cloak art, and other wonderful illustrations, by using the menu at the left of the screen. Under Snape Art, click on "My Illustrations."

Subtilior did a drawing for the Chapter 9 hugging scene. It can be found here: www. deviantart. com / deviation /5651680/

Andrian did a drawing for the Chapter 11 letting-the-hair-down scene. It can be found here: www. artwanted. com / imageview.cfm?id=84729

And, of course, Nappies of Courage, Hawklaw's brilliant parody (and for anyone disappointed that there is no "baby Snape" in Cloak, you have to go read) can be found here: ashwinder. sycophanthex. com / viewstory. php?sid=4540. Warning - it IS NC-17.

(Unfortunately, with aff.net down I can't do the "House Points" that some of you asked for… it really wouldn't be fair. Soooo, once it's back up, give me a couple of weeks and I'll have a short PWP for you to read set in the Cloak "universe." I'll put the Points at the end of that for anyone that's interested.)


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